


Drive It Like You Mean It

by Zizzani



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ADHD Lance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Eventual relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Hawaiian Hunk (Voltron), I hope, I'll update these tags as I go, Korean Keith, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Street Racer AU, all pronouns for pidge, also there will be swearing, and the first kiss is in chapter 10, background shallura - Freeform, genderfluid pidge, latino lance, the smut is in chapter 18 if anyone's wondering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-07-29 08:58:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 93,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7678138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zizzani/pseuds/Zizzani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Castle of Lions is the venue for the city's most dangerous illegal street races where drivers come to test the cut of their tires. Lance has long defended his title as champion, but when a newcomer shows up and threatens his position things take an interesting turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Under the bridge

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written for this fandom before so I'm super nervous but I'm a hardcore Klance shipper and I'm too lazy to draw this AU so I'm just gonna write it.

Keith loved speed. He loved the feeling of wind whipping through his hair, a thrill shooting through his veins as the engine beneath him purred menacingly, a quiet warning to buckle in tight. He’d loved speed for as long as he could remember, which was why he felt extremely out of place standing awkwardly underneath the metal arch. It was so rusted that he could barely make out the words “Castle of Lions” stained and flaking across its structure. Nonplussed, Keith flicked another glance to the small card that had been shoved into his pocket by an anonymous donor at his last race. Sure enough, the smudged print on the pink faded slip of paper clearly read “Castle of Lions” with a date and time underneath. Keith sighed, stuffing the slip into his pocket as he ducked under the archway. His feet made a wet slap as he trudged along the rain soaked pavement. He was beginning to think he’d never find this venue and that someone had given him the tab as a joke, but after a few minutes of silent walking he began to make out the sound of voices. A few more metres and Keith was sure he could hear a crowd, flickering orange lights coming into view as an expressway curved above his head.

Stepping over a small verge, Keith suddenly caught the full view of the scene before him: Underneath the expressway, a crowd of all sorts of people spread out. Fire barrels were positioned an random intervals between them, and loud music played a heavily thumping beat that bounced around the concrete as people handed drinks and wads of cash between them. The revving of an engine caught Keith’s attention and he turned his head to take in the myriad of vehicles dotted about, each one souped-up to an almost obnoxious degree with flashy paint jobs, spinning rims, and glowing lights. Keith could see a gaggle of people shouting at each other, gesticulating wildly and passing fistfuls of bank notes from hand to hand as a man in dark glasses frantically wrote numbers on a chalk board. With a soft mental “click”, Keith realised they were taking bets: Sure he’d seen betting pools before, but never this frantic. Whatever these people were betting on, the stakes seemed to be high.

Tearing his attention away from the hubbub, Keith slid down the small slope onto the concrete, turning up the collar of his jacket as he wove his way through the crowd. Once he got close enough to the board, he peered into to have a look at some of the names. The Phantom Blade, Jackrabbit, The Comeback Kid, Hairpin, Green Bullet, Kamikaze – Keith snorted at the names some of the racers had given themselves, though he reasoned that at least no one had called themselves ‘Mad Max’.

“You in, kid? Lowest bet’s $500,” a gruff voice asked.

Keith glanced up to see the man with sunglasses looking at him (or at least he thought he was, it was difficult to tell and Keith found himself vaguely wondering who wore sunglasses at night?).

“What?” Keith asked intelligibly, and the man huffed.

“If you’re not in, you’re out. Now back off, I’ve got work to do,” the man said, giving Keith a sharp shove in the shoulder before turning to a girl who was frantically waving a handful of bills at him.

Keith righted himself against the shove, pulling his jacket a little further around his body as he turned towards the line of cars. He had intended to get a better look at the specs on the vehicles when a sly voice floated up to his ear.

“So you’ve come to cheer on The Lion?”

Keith stopped walking, tilting his body slightly towards the source of the sound. Someone was sitting on a propped up barrel, watching him with a wolfish grin. They had short choppy hair that blended into the fur surrounding the hood of their green utility jacket. One leg was pulled up to their chest, the heel of a worn combat boot resting against the edge of the barrel as they propped their chin on their knee. A pair of glasses that seemed much too big sat atop their cheekbones, magnifying the eyes that were following the other boy like a hawk. Keith didn’t think they could have been older than twelve.

“Since you aren’t placing any bets, I see,” the kid continued. They dropped their knee and inclined their head towards the chalkboard as they spoke.

Keith remained silent, as he found it best to do when scoping out new turf. You never knew whom you were meeting - when someone approached a newcomer, and idle comment could often spell anything from a grudge match to a full-blown turf war.

“Though I think you’ve left your pompoms at home,” the kid remarked sarcastically as Keith continued to take them in.

After it became clear that he wasn’t going to speak, the kid sighed before hopping off the barrel and taking a stride forward.

“I’m Pidge,” they said, extending a hand.

Keith stared for a second longer before grasping Pidge’s hand firmly.

“Keith,” he grunted in response, and Pidge grinned, seemingly satisfied with the singular name.

“This your first time at Lion Castle?” Pidge enquired, taking a step towards the line up. They paused to see if Keith would follow. The dark-haired boy obliged, strolling slowly next to the strange kid as they came to the front of the crowd.

“Yeah, yours?” he asked, more out of politeness than genuine curiosity.

“Nah, I’ve been here a while. I help a friend out with mods for his wagon,” Pidge replied, pressing the toe of a boot to the wheel of one of the cars and giving it a small nudge.

“Is he looking to get into the game?” Keith wondered aloud.

Pidge chuckled softly.

“Oh no, he’s well into it already. In fact, he’s racing tonight,” Pidge said, and a wicked smirk curled at the corner of their mouth.

“Well that’s good,” Keith replied with a smirk of his own, “Since I was hoping to scope out the competition.”

Pidge remained silent, opting to quirk an inquisitive eyebrow at Keith’s words. A loud clanging filled the air and the small crowds voices roses as they moved towards the cars. Whoops of excitement filled the air, punctuated with few high-pitched whistles and shouts.

“Alright alriiiiiiight!” A loud voice shouted above the crowd, and Keith saw the man with sunglasses stepping out in front of the cars.

His arms were raised in an attempt the quieten the shouting. “Welcome to The Paladin Races! People are you ready?!”

The small crowd cheered as if it were compensating for it’s size, the clash of voices echoing around the concrete space making it seem as if there were more people present than there actually were. The man grinned at the response, nodding his head appreciatively at the crowd’s enthusiasm.

“Alright!” he bellowed once the cheering had settled down, clapping his hands together dramatically. “First up this evening we have a battle for the crown!”

A few whoops from the crowd had the man rubbing his hands together for added effect.

“That’s right, our finely established monarchy is being challenged by a long time threat! This man has been clawing for his own reign for quite some time; yes he has ladies and gentleman. In the red corner tonight we have none other than the one, the only, a-Mister JACKRABBIT!”

The commentator swung his arms towards a purple vehicle with gleaming silver rims, a soft neon glow permeating from the underside of the car’s body. A man with bright orange aviator glasses rose out of the sunroof, spreading his arms wide at the cheering crowd as he stuck out his tongue. Keith immediately disliked him, which was apparently the accurate response as he heard a few boos and hisses thrown in with the spectators’ cheering.

“Is that your friend?” Keith cautiously asked Pidge as he leaned against one of the columns supporting the expressway overhead.

Pidge snorted, shooting him an offended look.

“Who? That tool? No way, dude.”

After Jackrabbit had sunk back into his car and the crowd had settled again, the man with glasses clapped his hands together a second time. His grin widened so much that it threatened to split his face.

“And now, defending his title as- hang on hang on…”

The man made a few calming motions with his outstretched palms as the crowd began to grow restless. Excited screams pierced the air, threatening to drown him out.

“Defending his title as King of the Course!” the man boomed as he stretched one arm out to gesture towards the car on his other side. “Your reigning sovereign, his majesty, _EL LEÓN AZUL!”_

The door of the royal blue car swung open as the driver stepped out, one arm raised to wave at the onlookers, and the crowd erupted. Keith almost laughed at the deafening roar that overwhelmed the space, and raised one hand to cover the ear closest to the noise as he turned to get a better look at who had caused such a commotion. The man couldn’t have been any older than himself, Keith realized. He had short, messy brunette hair that went well with his brown skin. His cocky grin stood out gleamingly white in the dim light from the barrels, and he was wearing a blue leather jacket with red accents along the arms. He paused in his waving to shoot a few finger guns at some of the girls near the front of the crowd, laughing lightly as they screamed. Keith inwardly cringed at the embarrassing action, though when he glanced at the man again he did kind of understand the girls’ reactions – the driver was… Attractive. As he turned to get back into his car, Keith saw the image of a blue lion printed in a darker blue across the back of his jacket.

“ _That_ ,” murmured Pidge with that same smug air, “is my friend.”

A figure suddenly stepped in between the cars. Keith blinked as a tall woman strode out onto the starting line, her impeccable posture giving her a distinctly authoritative air. She wore tight white jeans that were ripped across the knees, and a pair of lethal looking stiletto boots that Keith was sure made her over 6ft. A purple leather jacket was zipped up tightly to the dark skin of her throat where a curtain of curly silver hair billowed out from the collar and down her back. Even Keith could appreciate how attractive she was, and her confident stride earned her more than a few wolf whistles from the riled up crowd.

“That’s Allura,” Pidge informed as they watched Keith’s gaze follow the woman. “She pretty much owns this venue since her dad died and left her a load of industrial buildings and land.”

The man in the blue car rolled down his window to say something to her, and she rolled her eyes at him, though a kind smile spread across her face as if it were a familiar routine the two of them shared. Jackrabbit followed suite, quickly winding down his window to leer at Allura. She promptly flipped him off. Keith scoffed at that: For some reason he was having trouble reconciling the vulgar gesture with the positively regal vibe the woman was emitting.

“I want a good clean race,” she stated, and Keith heard a strong British accent in her firm tone. “Once around the barrels and back. I don’t want any funny business, and _NO_ fancy tricks. I’m looking at _you_ , Jackrabbit,” she said sternly, casting a withering glare at the windscreen of the purple car. Jackrabbit revved cheekily in response.

Allura simply sniffed, raising her arms as she stood squarely in between the two cars and cocking a hip. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two vehicles as their engines revved, the low grumble filling the air as the audience waited in quiet anticipation. After a few more tantalizing seconds, Allura threw her hands down by her hips and the sound of tires squealing filled the air. The crowd erupted once again as small clouds of dust puffed away from where the cars had been merely seconds earlier. Keith’s head snapped up to watch the cars streak into the night, the loud roaring of the engines lessening with the rapidly increasing distance. It was immediately apparent that El León Azul was a far superior driver. Switching effortlessly through the gears as he gained speed, he immediately settled in front of Jackrabbit, swerving to prevent the purple car from over taking him. Keith could practically see that cocky grin flashing in the rearview mirror as he watched his opponent struggle to gain purchase. The two cars were fast approaching the cluster of three barrels at the end of the strip, and Keith could visualize El León stepping on the brakes as the wheel span beneath his fingers. The blue car took the turn with ease; the weight in the body barely shifting as it started to accelerate back in the direction it had come. Keith sucked in a small breath at the tricky maneuver. It was… impressive. A loud whoop from Keith’s left made him jump.

“Yeah baby!” shouted Pidge, face triumphant. “I _knew_ that suspension would work! Wooo! GO LANCE!”

 _Lance,_ Keith thought. _So that’s his name._

The purple car took the turn sloppily. The vehicle came in too fast, curving wide as it failed to capture the speed it had lost around the barrels. Lance was streaking ahead, the blue car purring happily as his speed evened out, and the crowd scattered to make room for the incoming vehicle. Lance apparently didn’t even consider his opponent worth a full race. He slowed the car towards the finish line, easing back under the expressway languidly as if he were pulling into a gas station. The purple car didn’t have as much luck. As it finally crossed the finish line, the tires screeched, leaving dark skid marks across the concrete as Jackrabbit slammed on the brakes. The man kicked the door open, his face almost the same colour as his car as he strode towards his opponent. Lance had since gotten out of his blue car and was currently draping himself back across the hood, propped up on his elbows as he waggled his eyebrows at a cluster of girls.

“What can I say, Jack? I’ve told you to try turning it off and on again,” Lance cooed arrogantly, an irritating smirk stretching across his face and Jackrabbit practically foamed at the mouth.

“You really should just give up the game already, it’s embarrassing,” Lance continued, heedless of the vein bulging in the other man’s temple. “I’m embarrassed _for_ you.”

Jackrabbit roared, surging forward with renewed fury. He was halfway across the space between them when Allura stepped in front of him, causing Jackrabbit to stumble at the abrupt obstacle in his path.

“Rules are rules, Jack,” she said sternly, her voice cold as steel as she planted a hand firmly in the middle of his chest and pushed.

Jack stumbled back a few paces, and Keith raised his eyebrows. Allura was a lot stronger than she looked. Shooting one last venomous glare at Lance, Jack turned on his heel and strode back to his car. Throwing himself into the driver’s seat, he crossed his arms in a way that reminded Keith strongly of a child pouting after having been told to sit on the naughty step.

“Ho ho hooooookay!” The man with sunglasses called as he stepped back in front of the crowd. “The King has managed to retain his title!” A few more cheers escaped from the crowd and the man grinned again.

“Is there anyone willing to take on his highness for his unrivalled sovereignty!”

The crowd grew silent, save for the tittering of quiet conversation as people attempted to goad their friends into a race. Lance leaned back further against his car, his smirk progressing to a complete grin as he eyed his audience smugly. Something about that smile worked it way under Keith’s skin, and he felt the familiar heat of anger coil in his chest, fingers curling into the arms of his jacket.

“I’ll take you on.”

Every single pair of eyes in the crowd turned to look at him, and it was only when Keith caught sight of Pidge gaping did he realize it was him who had spoken. He cleared his throat awkwardly as he dropped his arms to his sides and straightened his back. Lance’s gaze travelled lazily over him, sweeping from his head to his feet and back up again. Keith found for a second that he felt incredibly self-conscious, and he shifted his weight between his feet before mentally smacking himself. He didn’t give a shit what Lance thought of him. To emphasize this, he leveled the other man with a hard stare, challenging him with a look.

“Sure,” Lance said after a moment, breaking the lull that had overcome their spectators. Lacing his fingers together above his head, he stretched as he stood up. “I could use another workout after that lackluster performance.”

Jackrabbit spat at the comment, but Lance ignored him.

“Go get your wheels, dude,” the man with sunglasses called, and a sick feeling of dread washed over Keith.

“I… Don’t have a car with me,” Keith admitted sheepishly, and the crowd tittered, some people laughing out loud. For some reason, it felt like one of those dreams where you realize you’re standing naked in front of your entire class.

Lance blinked once before snorting incredulously, turning to Allura and cocking a thumb in Keith’s direction.

“Get this rookie,” Lance goaded.

Allura shot Keith a sympathetic smile. The action made Keith’s temper flare, and he felt agitation crackle under his skim, fingers curling into fists at his sides. He suddenly wanted to wipe the self-assured off Lance’s face, to knock him down a peg or two in a way that he would remember. And yet here he was without a car, all talk and no trousers.

“Use mine.”

Keith looked up the see Jackrabbit getting out of his car. He chucked the keys towards him, and Keith snatched them out of the air with one hand.

“I want it back in one piece,” Jack growled threateningly as he came to stand by his shoulder. After a second, he leaned in closer to grumble into Keith’s ear, “Teach that asshole some respect.”

Keith nodded resolutely before making his way over to the purple car. Slipping into the driver’s seat, he shut the door behind him before putting the key in the ignition and lacing his fingers around the wheel. The car burst to life, the engine rumbling loudly, and Keith could feel the framework vibrating softly beneath him. He suddenly didn’t feel so sure of himself: The car was unfamiliar, and he’d seen how Lance’s vehicle had taken that turn with the aid of enhanced suspension. As he turned the car to line up at the starting position, he cast a glance in the other driver’s direction. Lance rolled down the window, giving him a small wave with three fingers. Paired with that cocky grin, the action seemed more taunting than reassuring.

“Don’t take it too hard when you lose in that tin can,” he called across the space between them, and Keith gritted his teeth against the irritation that sparked through him.

Allura stepped inbetween the cars again, raising her arms. Keith’s heart hammered in anticipation, and the second he saw her hand twitch he slammed his foot on the accelerator. Lance already had a head start, being more familiar with his vehicle, but Keith recognized his play immediately: He was trying to get ahead to block Keith from overtaking as he had done Jackrabbit. Keith rammed his feet against the pedals, flicking up through the gears with an ease that came from years of practice. He caught a brief glimpse of Lance out the corner of his eye. The arrogant grin was gone, instead replaced with something akin to surprise that was quickly twisting into anger. Keith saw the barrels in the distance, the image of Jackrabbit taking the turn wide flashing through his mind. In a snap decision, he lifted his foot from the accelerator, dropping his speed almost immediately. He saw Lance’s face light up with premature triumph as he slipped past the purple car and sped towards the turn.

 _Just you wait, asshole,_ Keith thought, brow furrowing in concentration.

Lance sped into the turning, wheels screeching as they tried to gain purchase on the concrete. Keith held his breath.

_NOW!_

He slammed on the brakes, yanking the wheel with all of his strength as he pushed the car back into first gear and pressed the accelerator to the floor. The purple car still turned wide, but it passed around the far side of the blue car. Both vehicles left the turning at the same time. Keith could see Lance’s jaw drop open and he allowed himself a small smile. Flicking up through the gears again, he coaxed the car’s speed up, pressing down on the gas until he thought his foot would push through the metal and out onto the concrete. Lance was still next to him, their cars level. Keith didn’t dare spare him a glance. He could see the crowd ahead of them scattering frantically as they closed into the finish, and he gave the gas pedal one final desperate push. They both passed under the expressway at the same time. Keith let his foot up immediately, easing onto the brakes as he turned the car back towards the crowd. Finally coming to a standstill, he let out a ragged breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding before turning off the engine and swinging open the door. He was met with silence as the crowd gaped at him. He could see Allura standing very still, and Pidge was eyeing him with a wicked glint in their eye. A loud bang alerted him to Lance throwing open his car door, and his mop of brunette bobbed out over the roof.

“What the shit was that?!” He demanded, fixing Keith with a stare that was equal parts incredulity and loathing. “Allura! Who won?”

A steady babble began to come from the crowd as people turned to each other with wide eyes. Allura seemed to be having trouble finding her voice.

“I… It was a draw!” she announced after a few seconds, and the crowd burst into animated chatter as people yelled at each other with fresh excitement.

Keith closed the door of the purple car and made his way over to Lance.

“Good race, man,” he said earnestly, extending his hand for Lance to shake.

Lance shot him a disgusted look before smacking his hand out of the way.

“You got lucky this time, mullet,” he huffed before slipping back into his car and promptly speeding away, leaving Keith coughing a little in the dust that followed.

With a shrug, he walked back over to the crowd, handing the keys back to Jack as people patted him on the back. Jack gave him a wordless nod as he slunk back over to his car.

“Oh man!” Pidge cried as they appeared by Keith’s side, clapping a hand on the taller boy’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve seen Lance that pissed since Hunk refused to give him his secret recipe for barbeque marinade!”

Keith allowed himself a small smile. It had been a good race. The man in sunglasses appeared suddenly and shoved a wad of bank notes into his hand.

“There’s your cut of the winnings,” he said matter-of-factly. “Make sure you get the details off Pidge for when the next race is.”

Keith blinked at the paper in his fist. He didn’t even have to count it to know that the fat wad of cash in his hand would be more than enough to cover his rent for the month.

“Keith, dude, you’ve _got_ to come again!” Pidge insisted, practically bouncing on the spot. “Seriously, I’ve never seen anyone give Lance a run for his money like that before!”

Keith caught sight of Allura who gave him a friendly smile before turning on her heel and making her way over to the odds boards. He turned back to Pidge, whose eyes were glittering with joy, before finally looking at where Lance had driven off. There was something deeply satisfying about wiping that smug grin off Lance’s face, and it soothed the irritated prickle under Keith’s skin like a balm.

“You know,” he started, voice dangerous, “I think I will.” 


	2. Shirogane's Auto Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took Spanish GCSE and got a C so if anyone has any corrections please just hit me with 'em.

“You should have seen him, Shiro!” Lance hissed, anger flushing his throat as he worked. “He was all, ‘Good race, man’. Like _fuck off!”_

He could hear Shiro chuckling under the parked station wagon, his legs stretching out from beneath the dull paint job of the body.

“Maybe he was just being friendly?” the older man suggested, voice echoing around the small auto shop. “Three quarter.”

Lance huffed with annoyance as he handed Shiro a torque wrench.

“With a face like that? I don’t think so. They guy looks like he never learned how to smile. And seriously, who even has a mullet these days?”

Lance chewed the inside of his cheek, agitatedly spinning a rusty sway bar in his hand as Shiro continued to work on the vehicle.

“I think it’s good for you,” Shiro announced. “Might help you realize what a stupid idea street racing is.”

Lance glowered at the pair of legs poking nonchalantly out from under the car, fully aware that Shiro couldn’t see him.

“Uh uh no, I am not talking about this with you again,” he insisted, hoping to shut down the conversation before it turned into another lecture.

Shiro wheeled the creeper out from beneath the station wagon, sitting up to fix Lance with a stern expression.

“I’m serious, Lance. If you’re not careful, you’re going to get yourself killed.”

Lance sighed in frustration, the sway bar furiously spinning over his fingers.

“I’ve told you before, Shiro. I’ll be careful. Mi familia está luchando, okay? We _need_ this money.”

Concern flickered across Shiro’s expression and he opened his mouth to speak when an unwelcomingly familiar voice cut through the tension.

“Is this Shirogane’s Auto Garage?”

The sway bar dropped from Lance’s fingers, landing on the limestone floor with a loud clatter, and Lance’s mouth dropped open as he turned his head to see the driver from the other night standing awkwardly in the opening of the garage. The sunshine glinted off his dark hair, giving him a strange glow, and his eyes glittered navy as he took in his surroundings. Shiro stood up, giving him a friendly wave with his prosthetic hand.

“It is indeed, how can I help you?”

Keith took a step into the garage at the confirmation, and as his eyes adjusted to the light they immediately locked onto Lance. Lance snapped his jaw shut, grinding his teeth as he shot daggers at his rival in the hope that he could liquefy him on the spot. The other boy swept his eyes noncommittally over Lance before turning back to Shiro, and Lance repressed the urge to lunge across the space and bitchslap him. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

“I’m looking to get a new strut tower brace, since my old one’s shot. I heard you were the best place in town for that sort of thing.”

Lance narrowed his eyes at the words. Clearly the race yesterday had left him wanting some of Lance’s turning skills.

“It depends what kind of thing you’re looking for,” Shiro replied, completely oblivious to one-sided silent war that Lance was having with Keith. “If it’s for a gentle drive through the city then I can get you something a bit cheaper that’ll last just as long.”

“Money’s not a problem,” Keith replied deadpan, and Lance felt a hot surge of emotion shoot through him.

It was as much anger as it was jealousy, and when Keith finally turned to look at him again, he blinked in surprise at the acidic look Lance was giving him. The two boys stared at each other in tense silence for a second before Keith turned back to Shiro.

“Actually, I’ll take the strongest thing you’ve got. I’m looking to improve the handling predictability on my car, and it’s used to taking a bit of a beating.”

Lance snorted softly, and he saw Keith stiffen slightly at the sound. Shiro turned at the sound as well, sending Lance a quizzical look, though he seemed to cotton on to the situation after seeing Lance’s expression. The older man shook his head tiredly, a mildly amused smile quirking at the corner of his lip.

“Sure, if you bring it in I can take a look and we’ll see what we can sort you out with,” he said amicably, extending a hand for Keith to shake. “I’m Shirogane, by the way. You can call me Shiro.”

“Keith,” the dark-haired boy said in response, shaking Shiro’s prosthetic hand. “Japanese?”

“Yeah, born and raised,” Shiro replied with a smile. “Been living here for the past twenty years. You?”

“Korean-Canadian.”

Shiro nodded appreciatively, and Keith bit his lip as he gave the older man a small smile. Lance found himself locked onto the action, his eyes zeroing in on how the blood returned to Keith’s lip as he drew it out of his mouth. Shiro’s hand on his shoulder knocked him out of the small reverie, and Lance jumped about a foot into the air with a yelp. Keith’s eyebrows shot up with amusement, and Lance glowered at him.

“The sourpuss is Lance,” Shiro supplied.

Keith silently extended a hand for him to shake, and Lance blinked, the image a strange parallel to what he’d encountered the evening before. He couldn’t refuse to shake a customer’s hand, so with a dark look he grabbed Keith’s fingers, squeezing probably a bit too hard as he gave them a short tug. Keith seemed unfazed.

“He helps me out in the shop,” Shiro elaborated.

“Errrr, yeah. Could I talk you over some of the specs in your office?” Keith asked, scratching the back of his neck somewhat awkwardly and shooting Lance a look. “In private?”

The action made some of his dark locks poke out of his collar at an odd angle, and Lance had the sudden desire to reach out and swat them flat.

“Sure, it’s over this way,” Shiro said, beckoning Keith over to the small room at the back of the garage.

Lance glared at the back of Keith’s head as he followed Shiro, trying to set that stupid mullet on fire through sheer force of will. Whatever, he’d just get Keith’s specs off Shiro the second Keith was gone. In annoyance, he grabbed the wrench Shiro had been using and swung himself under the car on the creeper. Whenever Lance was annoyed, he found it therapeutic to tinker. That’s how he’d gotten into cars: Before, he’d used to overthink things to the point of panic, and he’d often feel like he needed to run or shout or do something to release all the pent up energy from his body. It was only when he’d met Shiro that he’d begun learning about vehicles, as the older man offered him a part-time job with the suggestion that fixing something tangible might help him fix whatever was bothering him. Lance had taken to cars like a duck to water.

After a few minutes, Lance heard the office door open again, Shiro and Keith’s voice floating gently over the sounds of the garage. Lance saw the shadow of Keith’s body pass from under the car as he made his way back outside, his shoes passing a fraction too close for Lance’s taste.

 _Huh, Air Jordans,_ Lance thought bitterly. _Even his damn shoes are expensive._

When he was sure Keith was gone, Lance wheeled himself out from under the car. Shiro was walking over to him, looking slightly sheepish as he fiddled with the screws in his prosthetic hand.

“What was all that about? Has he got a jimmied-up Campervan or what? Oh my god, _tell me_ he’s got a VW Bug!” Lance began enthusiastically.

The thought of getting his hands on Keith’s car made him feel like a kid in a candy shop.

“Yeah, so umm…” Shiro rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, avoiding Lance’s gaze. “He doesn’t want you working on his car.”

Lance gawked, a snide comment catching in his throat and causing him to splutter.

“He wh- _WHAT?!”_

Shiro sighed as if he’d fully predicted the reaction.

“C’mon, Lance. Would you let him work on your car if you’d beaten him in a race?” he asked, dropping his voice as he tacked on, “An _illegal_ street race.”

“HE DIDN’T _BEAT_ ME!” Lance roared, feeling blood rushing all the way to the tips of his ears. “It was a DRAW! Seriously, fuck him and his tacky fingerless gloves!”

Shiro sighed again, reaching out to gingerly pluck the wrench from Lance’s grip before he hurt himself.

“Well whatever it was, he explicitly stated that he doesn’t want you anywhere near his vehicle. He’s a customer Lance, I’ve got to respect his wishes.”

Lance groaned in frustration. Turning his back to Shiro, he squatted down in front of the toolbox as he turned to hiss over his shoulder.

“ _Judas._ ”

 

Seeing Lance at the garage had thrown Keith a bit – What was a guy who won big bucks at street races doing working part-time at an auto shop? Was it a part of his cover? He didn’t think it was a particularly clever camouflage if that’s what it was.

After talking to Shiro, Keith had taken a long walk around the town, getting himself acquainted with the whereabouts of bars, supermarkets, and the closest bank. He liked the town, he decided. There was a certain ambience about the hustle and bustle of the streets that made it seem vibrant. Not only that, but there were hills surrounding the immediate area, which meant that there were long winding roads the Keith could drive in the evenings when he needed to get out of his own head.

He’d just turned down a side street that he’d worked out cut 5 minutes of his journey home when he heard gruff voices coming from one of the alleys. Keith shrunk down further into his jacket collar: He knew how to avoid finding trouble he didn’t ask for. He had just passed the alley when an obnoxiously grating voice cut through the air, and Keith froze in his tracks. He knew that voice.

“Whatever man, it just caught me off guard. The next one’s no sweat!”

_Lance._

Keith hesitated. What was that guy doing down a dodgy back alley? Deliberating only a second longer, Keith stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned to leave. Lance was nothing to him after all, why should he care what the guy was up to? A sharp thump resounded off the bricks, and Keith heard Lance grunt.

“You’d better make sure of it,” a deep voice said, and Keith stopped walking as a sudden chill ricocheted down his spine. “I can’t have you making me look bad. Weakness is an infection. Better to _cut it off_ than let it spread.”

Keith bristled at the distinct threat behind the words, and his fingers twitched in his pocket as he struggled to decide what to do.

It was none of his business what was happening between Lance and whomever he was talking to. But then again, if Lance got hurt and Keith could have prevented it, he’d have that hanging over his head for a while. Keith mentally cursed himself, gritting his teeth as he span on his heel and walked smack bang into Lance coming round the corner. The taller boy let out a squeak as he stumbled backwards, reaching out a flailing hand to catch a drainpipe before he fell. Keith let out a small huff, taking a step back to right himself before his gaze locked with Lance’s. A small beat passed between them, Lance’s eyes widening as he took in Keith. His expression quickly morphed into a scowl.

“Oh great. It’s _you_ ,” he grumbled.

Keith straightened, taking in Lance’s stiff posture. There was a small smear of grime on his neck, and he held his left shoulder stiffly, as if he were extremely conscious of it. He was wearing a grey hoodie under a green cargo jacket with amber accents on the upper arms, not too different from his racing jacket, Keith noticed.

“Who were you talking to?” Keith asked before Lance could open his mouth again.

“None of your damn business, mullet-head. Now get out of my way,” Lance said.

He knocked past Keith, wincing minutely as the static body collided with his left shoulder. Keith reached out to grab Lance’s shoulder, aware of how he bit his tongue to keep from crying out.

“Seriously, are you in trouble?”

Lance’s expression wavered for a second before he stubbornly set his jaw.

“ _Piss off_ , man. Why don’t you just wander home to your Mama and I’ll see you when I kick your ass at the next race, okay?”

Keith visibly bristled at the comment, and he all but smacked Lance’s hand away when it came up to pat the hand on Lance’s shoulder condescendingly. Whatever was going on with the guy, Keith decided he didn’t care. Lance was still an asshole, and he probably deserved whatever treatment he was getting.

“Whatever,” he scowled, and promptly turned on his heel to march away.

He didn’t look back.

 


	3. New track

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Hunk appears, Pidge gets some bread, and Lance wins the award for "not-as-big-a-dick-as-you-could-have-been".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who read the wikihow on upgrading your car!!! (I know nothing pls help me why did I pick this au???)
> 
>  
> 
> Hunk's pickup http://www.madanthony.net/pics/cover2.jpg
> 
> Allura's jeep https://c2.staticflickr.com/4/3373/3240589913_30d865beab_b.jpg
> 
> Keith's Camaro http://www.camaro5.com/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=6835&stc=1&d=1219026314
> 
> Lance's Mustang http://paintref.com/mustang/1967/1967_00081_01.jpg

The venue for the next race was different. It was still Allura’s property, which meant that technically it was still part of The Castle of Lions estate, but it was several miles out of town in a much more rural area. Pidge had explained that the venue changed frequently to avoid the law from noticing a pattern in the whereabouts of the illegal races, which worked out just fine for everyone.

As he rolled his car into the industrial estate, Keith could already make out the silhouettes of several drivers posing around their cars. He spotted Lance preening himself as he chatted to a group of people, most likely talking himself up shamelessly. As Lance looked round, he spotted Keith’s ambling car and whistled in appreciation. Keith put the car in park and opened the door, brushing the tails of his hair out of his jacket collar as he stood. He saw Lance’s expression shutter for a moment, seemingly unable to settle as his appreciation of the car warred with his dislike of Keith. After a moment, he went for a disgruntled pout, lips twisting as if he’d tasted something sour before he turned back to group’s attention. Keith thought about going over to talk, but decided against it after remembering what a tool Lance had been the other night.

“Keith!”

Keith turned to see Pidge leaning out the passenger window of a canary yellow pickup truck, face split with an elated grin. Out of his periphery, Keith noticed Lance turning at the familiar voice as well, raising his eyebrows with surprise. The pickup came to a stop and Pidge leapt out of the passenger seat.

“There’s someone I want you to meet!” Pidge announced, skipping over to where Keith was leaning on his car.

Pidge’s eyes swept slowly over the shiny red vehicle, taking in all the details.

“Woah, nice wheels. Are those Nutek rims?” They asked curiously, crouching down to poke at the rims.

“Yeah, I picked them up from Galaxy Garrison when I was there last year,” Keith explained.

He looked over to the pickup when he heard the driver door slam and saw a tall, barrel-chested man making his way over to them. Pidge’s eyes narrowed at Keith.

“People don’t just _pick stuff up_ from Galaxy Garrison, Keith,” they needled.

Keith blinked, deciding it would be useless to lie. Pidge was like a bloodhound.

“I may have… _Borrowed_ them. Indefinitely,” he said with a dangerous smirk, and Pidge grinned wickedly.

The tall man came to a standstill in front of the pair, and Pidge turned around to clap a hand on his arm.

“Keith, this is Hunk, our resident mechanic. He’s on hand in case anyone blows a tire.”

Hunk shot a frown at Pidge.

“It’s a little more than that,” he said poutily, extending a hand for Keith to shake.

“I like to think I make the difference between a win or a lose.”

Keith shook Hunk’s hand, his fingers feeling tiny in the man’s grip.

“Well then perhaps you can help me out this evening?” Keith suggested. “I’m waiting on a new strut brace so my car’s a little out of shape for a race. Think you could do me a quick fix?”

Hunk beamed at the invitation, clapping his hands together enthusiastically as Keith popped the hood of his car.

“Pigeon, my good friend, my pal!”

Keith stiffened at the voice that joined them. Turning his head, he spotted Lance wrapping his arm around Pidge’s shoulders, pulling his friend into a noogie. Pidge grumbled as they fought against his hold.

“I swear Lance, we have _talked_ about the noogies!”

Lance shot Pidge a devilish grin as he released them.

“Well what do we have here?” he asked far too innocently as he leant over to peer under the bonnet of the red car.

Keith took a step forward, attempting to shield the inner workings of his engine from the other boy. Lance gave him a bored look. Stepping into his space, he leaned down the extra inch to meet Keith’s eyes. Lance was so close that Keith could feel the other boy’s warm breath ghost over his face, the sensation causing him the shudder slightly.

“Seriously!? What am I gonna do, spit in your screen wash?”

Pidge and Hunk glanced at each other, the latter shifting uncomfortably at the tension that hung in the air. Keith hesitated for a moment before stepping back minutely to let Lance past. It wasn’t like he could do any damage, right? He’d already told Shiro not to let Lance near his vehicle.

Lance came to stand next to Hunk, tying his jacket around his waist and placing his hands gently on the front of the car. Keith’s eyes followed the way his arms flexed as they braced his weight, soft warmth tickling his throat slightly. He coughed in an attempt to get rid of it.

“He needs a new tower brace,” Hunk explained, rubbing his already greasy fingers with an old rag. “This car’s definitely seen a lot of love, that’s for sure.”

“Tower brace definitely, Shiro’s the one for that,” Lance agreed, his eyes flitting over the engine. “Maybe try replacing the springs with coil overs too, to help with the tighter corners.”

Keith paused at that. He’d never considered changing the springs in his car, but looking over the engine he could immediately see how it would improve the vehicle’s performance. Lance appeared to come to the same realisation as his eyes widened and he looked up at Keith in mild panic.

“I mean, if you want that sort of thing. Might make you look like a douchebag, upgrading something so minor,” he tacked on hurriedly as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his blue jacket.

Keith had opened his mouth to say thank you, but automatically snapped it shut at the insult. His eyebrows lowered as he stared at Lance, unsure of whether he should rise to the challenge. Lance had just helped him out after all.

“Not that you need any help with that,” Lance finished, spinning on his heel to stalk away.

“Awwwww,” Pidge cooed. “He likes you.”

Keith looked at them as if they’d grown and extra head. Pidge merely smirked. Hunk was nodding thoughtfully, eyes still locked on the engine.

“He’s right,” he announced after a second, shutting the bonnet with a ‘thunk’. “Ask Shiro about getting some installed, he can usually fix you up with a good price. For now I’ve just given it a once over, there’s nothing major that needs modding so it should be fine to race.”

Keith smiled softly, shaking Hunk’s hand again.

“Thanks, Hunk.”

There was a loud rumble as a purple Land Rover wheeled into the venue, the large tires eating up the ground before it came to a shuddering stop. The driver’s door banged open with considerable force and Allura hopped out, her over-the-knee stiletto boots hitting the concrete with a loud ‘clack’. Keith watched her stride over to the odds boards, leaving the lights of the Land Rover on to cast a long shadow in front of her. This evening she was wearing purple shorts under a long black cable knit jumper and white leather jacket that contrasted nicely with her dark skin. Her silver hair was pulled up into a messy knot atop her head, and long purple earrings dangled by her jaw as she held her head high. Everything about her expelled authority and power, and Keith found he held a huge respect for the woman.

“Don’t even think about it,” Pidge said, cutting Keith out of his thoughts. “She’s _very_ taken, and she puts up with enough people hitting on her already without adding you to the mix.”

Keith couldn’t help but bark out a short laugh.

“No chance of that,” he said curtly.

Pidge frowned at him like they were trying to work out a particularly difficult algebraic equation.

“Why do yo- _OOOOH!_ ”

Pidge’s eyes widened knowingly a split second before their expression devolved into a diabolical grin.

“Oh this makes things fun.”

Keith opened his mouth to ask what Pidge’s cryptic words meant when he was cut off by the commentator’s loud voice hyping up the crowd. Pidge skipped forward with Hunk to join the fray and, having missed the opportunity, Keith followed. The commentator (a guy named Grimble, Pidge had informed him) briefly went over the course route for the evening before announcing the first two competitors. As the first cars lined up, Hunk promptly scooped Pidge up and placed them on his shoulders so that they could get a better view. Keith shifted awkwardly as Lance made his way over to join them, his jacket back on his body with the collar turned up. The blue leather complimented his eyes beautifully.

“You got dibs on anyone tonight, Pidge?” Lance asked nonchalantly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

He didn’t even glance at Keith, and the dark-haired boy felt annoyance bubble in his chest. How did the guy manage to get under his skin by not even doing anything?

“Ooooh you know I do,” Pidge whooped, drumming their palms on Hunk’s head. “Cotton’s winning this one for sure!”

Lance quirked an eyebrow at his friend’s confident tone.

“Know something that we don’t, Pigeon? Care to share with the class?”

Pidge looked at Lance conspiratorially, trying to keep the grin off their face.

“Let’s just say that Thace may not have the most up to date catalytic converter that today’s industry has to offer.”

Hunk balked, struggling to look up at the smaller person on his shoulders.

“You told him that he had the newest model??”

“I didn’t _say_ he had the newest model. I just told him that his model was up to scratch and he interpreted that how he liked,” Pidge replied indignantly.

Hunk’s draw dropped and he anxiously hopped up and down on the spot.

“ _Piiiiidge!_ Do you know what’s gonna happen when he loses this race?” Hunk whined, and Keith detected a note of genuine fear in his tone.

He could understand – people bet big money on the outcome of these races. If someone had been withholding information that could have resulted in a victory, well, things could get real ugly real fast.

“Relax, big guy. I’ll upgrade his gear for free when he comes around, should be enough to placate him. Besides, it’ll hardly cost me anything since this pay off is gonna be big.” Pidge said in a tone that was probably supposed to be soothing.

It appeared to do nothing to calm Hunk’s nerves.

“Ah man,” Lance sighed, lacing his fingers together behind his neck. “If you’d told me I would’ve put some chips down.”

“And risked you denting my earnings? Sorry, Lance, but I can’t have that.” Pidge said smugly, mimicking Lance’s action and resting their hands behind their head.

“You gamble?”

Lance’s eyes slid sideways to look at Keith, and it took a second before Keith realised he had asked the question.

“Only when I know I’m gonna win,” Lance answered after a moment, quickly averting his gaze.

Keith saw a slight flush colour the other boy’s cheeks, and suddenly thought he might have asked a very personal question. He hadn’t meant to embarrass Lance.

The race was a close one, both cars overtaking one another repeatedly as they fought for the lead. The course was longer and more winding than the previous one had been, and Keith felt his fingers itching to wrap themselves around a steering wheel and try it for himself. The clincher was the home stretch. Whilst the two cars had been on par previously, Thace’s car clearly struggled with the distance. Cotton’s car edged into the lead about 20 yards before the end and crossed the finish line a solid length in front of his opponent.

“YES!” Pidge cheered, squirming about so triumphantly that Hunk had to take a few steps to make sure that the two of them didn’t fall over. “Quick! Hunk! Throw me as hard as you can towards to odds board!”

“What?! No, we’re friends,” Hunk replied aghast, and he began weaving his way through the crowd.

Keith found himself smiling at their easy camaraderie. He was happy to have met such laid back people at a place like this, and he idly looked around for Lance to share the moment with. He caught sight of the taller boy some 10ft away. He was talking animatedly with a guy, possibly a fellow driver, his hands moving through the air as he described something to him. The guy smiled, his mouth moving as he said something in response. Suddenly, the guy’s hand moved across the space between them, slipping innocently under Lance’s jacket. He pressed forward, tilting his chin up as he leaned in to whisper something in Lance’s ear. Lance dipped his head down to listen, his mouth centimetres away from the guy’s neck. As he pulled away, Lance’s lips curved into a lazy grin, his lidded eyes looking down at the guy hungrily.

Keith felt his mouth drop open. Was Lance _flirting_ with this guy? The thought left Keith reeling. The way Lance paraded himself around to any girl in sight, he seemed like the poster boy for Heterosexual Boy Wonder. The fact that he was letting a guy very closely into his personal space… Keith felt an odd emotion boil in his gut.

Before he could process what it meant, Lance spun around, his eyes connecting with Keith’s across the space. Keith felt like a rabbit in headlights, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. Lance’s jaw went a little slack, but he didn’t look away. Keith saw the guy Lance was with grinning at him smugly across the space, like he knew something that Keith didn’t. The thought sparked irritation through his core. Keith tore his eyes away, choosing to focus intently on the crowd. He could see Hunk and Pidge making their way back over to him, Pidge having been set down from Hunk’s shoulders and now walking with two handfuls of cash so big that they could barely fit their small fingers around them. Hunk watched his friend’s glee with no small amount of pride, though his hands fidgeted nervously and he kept occasionally glancing around.

 _Probably keeping an eye out for Thace,_ Keith thought.

He’d seen Thace get out of his car at the end of the race, and he couldn’t blame Hunk for his caution: The man had _not_ looked happy.

“Look at all this cheese, Keith! Do you know how much tech I can buy with this?”

Pidge’s elation was infectious and Keith couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Almost involuntarily, he looked around again for Lance. He spotted the guy he’d been with close by, leaning against a car looking somewhat disappointedly and distinctly alone. Keith spun, rising up on the balls of his feet to get a better view. Where had that lanky shit gone?

He finally spotted Lance a little way off. He was tucked behind a shipping container, hands balled into fists at his sides and face grim. He was talking to someone, though Keith couldn’t see whom from where he was standing. He had no doubt it was the person from the other night. He glimpsed a hand reaching out to grasp Lance’s shoulder, and the other boy visibly tensed. Keith felt his temper swell.

The skin of the hand was a mottled grey, and something about the way the thumb dug into Lance’s shoulder made Keith feel a sharp twinge of unease. Lance was clenching his jaw, his eyes very deliberately staring at the ground as he appearing to be holding back a shout of pain.

The hand dropped off his shoulder, and Lance visibly relaxed a bit. He flicked his gaze up at whomever he was talking to before shoving his hands into his pockets and walking back out towards the crowd, pulling his jacket a little tighter around himself as he did so. Keith felt his own expression darken. What was going on?

“Whoa, I think the temperature out here dropped a few degrees,” Pidge said, pausing their victory dance to peer up at Keith. “You okay, Keith?”

Keith shook himself, blinking at Pidge in confusion.

“Feels fine out to me,” he answered.

Pidge just shook their head.

Grimble announced the second race – Kamikaze vs El León Azul.

Keith watched Lance bounce over to his car, turning and walking backwards as he waved to the roaring crowd, smile bright enough to light up the evening and cocky enough for Keith to grit his teeth. There was no hint of the nervousness he’d shown behind the shipping container.

Climbing into his car, he pulled up to the start line alongside his opponent. Kamikaze’s car was exactly the kind that made you inwardly cringe at the thought of who could be inside. The shiny silver car had both a front and rear spoiler, outfitted with a garish paint job of glittery hot rod flames and topped off with rims in an obnoxiously loud shade of orange. Hunk was grimacing as he held a hand to his brow, as if attempting to hold of the glare of the colour.

“Wow,” he said, mouth twisting into an almost sympathetic look. “That’s a bold look.”

Keith silently agreed as he turned his eyes back to the starting line. He found that for some reason, he really wanted Lance to beat this guy, if not just so he could watch his supposed “rival” throw insults at the ugly vehicle. Allura stepped between the cars, raising her hands before dropping them with one swift motion. The familiar squeal of tires filled the air, quickly followed by a cheer from the crowd.

For all of its garishness, Kamikaze’s car certainly had better acceleration. He edged ahead of Lance almost instantly, swerving in front of the blue car as Lance’s flicked up through the gears. At the first corner, Lance tried turning wide to move around the black car, but his gas didn’t stick and the black car shot away from the turn in the blink of an eye. Keith heard Pidge curse. The blue car sped after the silver, struggling to shorten the distance between them at the next two turns. Every time Lance edged his car closer, Kamikaze would swerve in front of him. He was cutting Lance off at the knees. Keith could see Kamikaze in the driver’s seat from his rolled down window, head thrown back as he laughed maniacally, one arm stuck out to flip Lance off as they approached the final turn. Keith was on the edge of his seat. Lance was going too fast. He couldn’t afford to lose anymore ground, not if he wanted to win.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Keith sent a silent prayer that the blue driver would learn from his mistakes. His eyes felt glued to the blue car as it came in to the final turn, and Keith could feel his fingernails digging into his palms through his gloves. In one swift motion, the blue car dropped in speed, Kamikaze streaking out ahead as the two cars turned into the corner. The silver car took the turning wide, tires kicking up billowing clouds of dirt as they span against the ground. Keith’s mouth dropped open. He could hear the blue car shift into first gear long enough for him to gasp before slotting up through second, third, fourth. In the time in took for Pidge to woop with delight, Lance’s car catapulted out of the turn, speeding ahead of Kamikaze. It wasn’t as elegant as his, but Keith knew that move. It was exact move he’d pulled himself at the last race.

The blue car nosed ahead, the engine singing as it reached a good speed, and Keith could practically see Lance’s triumphant smirk through the windshield.

The crowd screamed as he streaked across the finish line, coming to a screeching halt a few yards ahead. Lance flung open the driver’s door, standing up on the lip of his seat and throwing his arms wide like a magician who’d just successfully pulled a rabbit out of a hat. The crowd mobbed him, people reaching up to clap him on the shoulder or high five his outstretched palms with fervor. Keith let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. Since when did he want Lance to win so badly?

Before he could dwell on the thought, he saw Lance’s gaze flick nervously towards the shipping containers. Keith followed his line of sight, and a horrible chill ran through him. A dark figure lurked in the shadows of the steel structure. They were easily around 7ft tall, and there was a breadth to their shoulders that suggested a huge amount of muscle mass. He glanced back at Lance worriedly. The boy’s victorious smile had dropped some, no longer touching his eyes. He nodded once, and Keith saw the dark figure disappear behind the container. The encounter was unmistakably creepy, though none of the crowd appeared to have noticed. Keith felt suddenly on edge. He was aware that there were dodgy backhand dealings at street races, but this felt different. There was a thickness in his throat that he couldn’t seem to swallow, and Keith couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

Hunk suddenly clapped a hand on his back, causing Keith to jump nearly a meter in the air.

“Sorry dude,” Hunk said apologetically as he caught Keith’s wide-eyed stare. “Didn’t mean to scare you, but you’re up next I think.”

Keith turned to where Allura was beckoning him, and he gave her a small wave of acknowledgement before heading back to his car. Pulling up to the start line, Keith looked across to his opponent. They’d rolled down the window of their purple care and were currently saying something to him, mouth moving around muffled words as he stared at the window. Keith promptly rolled it down to hear what he was saying.

“My name is Haxus,” the man said with a thick accent and a curt nod of his head. “And you are?”

Keith stared for a moment before flicking the switch the roll up his window.

“Winning.”

As before, Allura came to step in between the cars, though Keith noticed she gave Haxus a very long hard look. She dropped her raised arms and Keith floored the gas pedal.

His own car felt much more comfortable than Jackrabbit’s had, and Keith immediately felt confidence coursing through his body like a fuel tap. He knew this car; he knew how its weight would shift around a turn and how the tires would catch with the accelerator. This car was where he felt at home.

Coming to the first corner, Keith slammed on the brakes, shuffling through the gears as the tires gained enough purchase to launch out of the turn. He’d pulled into the lead, but Haxus wasn’t far behind.

 _Time for some tactical driving,_ Keith thought to himself.

He bit back a smile that was trying to work its way out of the rush through his veins, swerving in front of Haxus’s car to prevent his opponent from passing. The following turn was the same, Haxus vainly trying to steer around Keith’s block. At the third corner, Haxus managed to turn sharply, slipping around Keith’s car and bringing their vehicles level. Keith swore loudly, gritting his teeth as he urged his car forwards. He shot a glance at his opponent, eyes searching frantically for a weak point as they shot towards the final turn.

The front two tires of Haxus’s car were slightly larger than in the back, most likely to compensate for the added weight of the wide bonnet, _most likely_ meaning that it was a front wheel drive. A plan formed in Keith’s mind, and he smiled darkly as he put it into motion.

Staying neck and neck with Haxus, Keith waited for the other car to turn before he moved. Giving the gas a sharp jab with his foot, he nudged the back of the other car as it curved, moving past it to turn wide. As Keith predicted, the front wheels of the other kept whizzing, turning the whole vehicle into a spin. He could see Haxus frantically turning the wheel, desperately trying to right himself. Keith took the split second delay for all it was worth, slamming his foot onto the gas as he drove the shift stick up through the gears. His car fired ahead, flying across the finish line a full five seconds before Haxus.

The crowd cheered with a vitality Keith had only ever seen used for Lance. They burst forth to swarm his car as he got out. He could see Pidge on Hunk’s shoulders, arms waving wildly and almost falling off as Hunk joined in the waving. Keith couldn’t help but grin as the fading rush from the speed sang through his blood. Haxus pulled up in his car, several tall men surrounding him as he got out of the drivers seat. They all wore equally displeased expressions, and Haxus shot Keith a cold glare, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he clenched.

For the third time that evening, Keith found his eyes searching for Lance amongst the crowd. He wanted to see the look on Lance’s face at the way he drove, he wanted the other boy to realize he’d met his match. But Lance was nowhere in sight. The realization put a dampener on Keith’s speed high, and he barely acknowledged Grimble stuffing his hand full with his winnings.

After the crowd had dissipated, Keith bid Pidge and Hunk farewell after declining their pleas for him to stay for the next few races. The high from racing had since left his system and he felt suddenly fatigued. It didn’t help that his mood had mysteriously drooped, and Keith pondered when exactly the night had turned stale as he made his way back over to his car. Turning to walk between two shipping containers, he suddenly spied Lance leaning against one, his back flush with the ridged metal.

His head was tipped back, face tilted towards the sky as he gazed reverently at the stars. The moonlight cast a pearly glow against his tan skin and illuminated his blue jacket in such a way that the colour seemed far too saturated against the grey of the shipping unit. A faint smile teased the corner of his lips as the night breeze gently tugged at the hair surrounding his face, and Keith felt that he didn’t want to disturb such a peaceful moment. It didn’t seem to matter, however, as Lance’s head snapped in Keith’s direction, his eyes looking as if they were struggling to refocus. When Lance registered whom it was, his brow furrowed slightly.

“Oh well look who it is,” he began, that all too familiar smirk curling his mouth.

Pushing off the foot that had been propped up against the metal, Lance weighted his stance on one leg as he rested a hand on his hip. “The new tool on the block.”

Keith crossed his arms, mentally chastising himself for ever thinking Lance could be the picture of peace.

“I saw your race,” he supplied, hoping to avoid a confrontation. “Nice move at the end there.”

Lance’s eyes flashed, but naturally he didn’t have the grace to be bashful. Lifting his hands palm up, he grinned cheekily.

“What can I say? Natural talent like mine just doesn’t come around everyday.”

Keith rolled his eyes, moving to walk past Lance.

“I saw yours.”

Keith stopped walking, cautiously wondering if he’d heard correctly. He turned to see Lance rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he glared at something on the opposite shipping unit, pointedly avoiding meeting Keith’s eyes.

“Your race, I mean,” he added after a second.

When he finally looked up, Keith raised his eyebrows a fraction in silent question.

“I saw that tailspin you put Haxus in. That was… smart.”

Keith almost laughed at how much Lance seemed to be struggling with his words. He looked like it was physically paining him to pay Keith a compliment.

“Not as smart as me, though, obviously,” he tacked on, but it seemed like an afterthought.

Keith decided to give him a break. After all, the more friends you made at street races, the better.

“Thanks,” he replied earnestly, turning to leave.

He missed the dusting of pink that sugared the top of Lance’s ears.

“Hey, Keith!”

Turning back at the sound of his name, Keith took in the expression on Lance’s face. There was a definite shift in the air, and something uneasy glinted in the other boy’s blue eyes.

“With Haxus and the others... Just … Pick your wins, ok?”

Keith’s mind flitted back to the men surrounding Haxus as he’d stepped out of the car.

There was a warning in the words.

He nodded his understanding, not missing how the tension slipped a little from Lance’s shoulders. Then, for the second time in as many days, Keith turned his back and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith 100% listens to Kpop during his races https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1oTSAhdzNQ
> 
> There's gonna be a lot more fluff in the next chapter ;D


	4. Mario Kart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang get together for a Mario Kart tournament and Keith and Lance have a ~moment~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna make this chapter longer but this seemed like a natural break. I have a fully rounded out plot so I'm just trying to weave in the romance in a way that balances the story events.

“Huuuuuuunk, _PLEASE!_ I promise I won’t tell anyone, just _please_ give it to me!”

Lance slumped across the kitchen island, his body stretching across the smooth surface as he waved his arms limply. Hunk leaned back against the fridge out of Lance’s reach.

“Sorry, dude. The recipe for sticky barbeque marinade is a family secret. I can’t betray my ancestors,” Hunk insisted, turning his head to the side to avoid his friend’s puppy dog eyes.

Lance straightened up, fixing Hunk with a threatening look as he braced his hands against the island.

“If you won’t give it up willingly, then I’m just gonna have to torture it out of you,” he said darkly.

“Lance, what are yo-,” Hunk started to say before Lance vaulted over the island and jabbed the big guy in the side.

“LANCE _NO!_ ” Hunk shrieked as the other boy attacked, fingers digging into the soft flesh of his sides.

Hunk scrambled to get away from Lance’s merciless tickling, nearly tripping over as he darted around the island into the lounge.

“Give it up, Hunk! Just give me the recipe and this can all be over!” Lance shouted, a Cheshire grin splitting his face.

“ _NEVER!_ ” Hunk hollered, turning his head over his shoulder.

His toe caught on the edge of the carpet, sending his large frame sprawling over the back of the sofa. Lance pounced, pushing them both onto the floor, followed by a small avalanche of cushions. Hunk squealed as his friend continued to jiggle his sides, gasping for breath in between giggles.

“Surrender!”

The sound of a slamming door stopped the to boys abruptly, and they looked up from where they were grappling with one another to see Pidge, Allura, and Keith framed in the doorway. Lance’s eyes locked with Keith’s for a second, and Lance felt his core temperature soar, his cheeks suddenly burning.

_Dios, this is so embarrassing._

“Trying to get the marinade recipe again?” Allura asked, no hint of a reaction at the sight of the two boys on top of each other.

“It’s too good for just one family to keep!” Lance complained, pushing himself off Hunk.

He felt all too aware of Keith’s eyes following him.

“You’re not exactly fighting fair, Lance. You know Hunk’s too nice to deck you the way you deserve,” Pidge said.

“I resent that. I am a delight, and Hunk loves the attention.”

Pidge dunked a grocery bag on the table as Allura and Keith made their way into the room, the five of them crowding around the kitchen island.

“I picked Keith up on the way,” Pidge said as they began unpacking packets of sweets and chips onto the counter.

Lance peeked at their new guest. Whereas before, he’d felt Keith watching him, the dark-haired boy seemed to now be pointedly not looking in his direction. The thought sent a flash of irritation through Lance’s body.

“Oh what?! He’s hanging out with us now?” he said, gesturing blindly towards the opposite side of the island.

“I’m right here.”

He turned at the sound of Keith’s voice to see him wearing a distinctly annoyed expression.

“Lance, that was rude,” Allura scolded, her eyebrows pulling together.

Lance felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on him, and he childishly turned his head to avoid meeting their gazes.

“Whatever.”

“Yeah, this way we have equal teams for Mario Kart,” Pidge continued as if nothing had happened.

“Uh, there’s five of us,” Hunk pointed out, tapping his index fingers together as he squeezed his arms into his sides.

The gesture was far too cute for a man of his height.

“Oh! Coran’s joining as well!” Allura chimed in, her face morphing into a cordial smile.

Lance groaned loudly, flopping dramatically back over the counter top.

“But Coran makes up all these weird rules like that we’re not allowed to place more than three bananas in a row, and we all know that it’s just so that he can try to one up us in races,” he complained.

“Must be so annoying having someone constantly trying to one up you, huh Lance?” Pidge mused without looking up from what they were doing.

Keith let out a short huff of laughter and Lance narrowed his eyes at the other boy. Keith set his jaw immediately and glared right back.

“Uuuuuuuh…” Hunk’s eyes flitted nervously back and forth between the two of them.

In an attempt to quell the air of tension, he grabbed a can of soda from Pidge’s groceries and shoved one in Lance’s face.

“HEY!” Lance yelped, jumping back as the cool metal touched his cheek.

The crease between his eyebrows smoothed as he looked down to see what had landed in his hand.

“Oh… Thanks, Hunk.”

Hunk passed the rest of the cans out between them as he swiftly changed the topic of conversation.

“So, any of you see that new mecha movie yet?” he asked cheerily as he tossed Keith a can.

Keith plucked it gracefully out of the air without even blinking.

“The one with the big army conquering the universe?” Lance enquired, and Hunk nodded emphatically. “I wanted to. Any of you wanna go?”

Hunk shook his head.

“Sorry man, I already saw it with Shay. Plus I’m, like, pretty much broke.”

Lance gasped dramatically at the admission.

“You turned down your best friend for a girl? Hunk! Where is the loyalty!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Hunk gushed, giving Lance and brief squeeze that left the slimmer boy wheezing.

Allura gave Lance a sympathetic smile.

“I’m sorry, Lance, but I too have already been to see it.”

Lance looked pointedly at Pidge, who snorted derisively.

“You wouldn’t catch me going to see that trash. I’ll save my cash for more plausible and much more tangible technology, thanks.”

A fiendish grin suddenly lit up Pidge’s face.

“You could ask Andreas to go with you…”

Lance winced. The others weren’t meant to know about his casual flirtation with the guy Pidge mentioned, and Pidge knew it.

Which meant that Pidge was up to something.

Lance shot them a panicked stare, only to be answered with a merciless smirk. Hunk frowned, as he seemed to try and recall the name.

“Andreas? Isn’t that the guy who sold Shiro dodgy stock?”

Allura looked aghast.

“Lance! The man is a crook!” she declared, somehow managing to look both shocked and disappointed at the same time.

“Is that the guy you were flirting with the other night?”

Everyone froze, and Lance’s eyes swivelled to meet Keith’s. The dark-haired boy was staring hard at him; apparently completely oblivious to the bomb he’d just dropped. Lance felt as if the gears in his brain were grinding together at different speeds, and he spluttered in the hope that he would find words.

“That wasn’t- I didn’t realise you noticed. Jealous?” he implied, trying his best to lie back into his comfortable sarcasm.

Keith glowered at him.

“No.”

“Well he is quite good looking…” Pidge hummed. “Not your type, Keith?”

“No,” Keith said again.

Lance snorted.

“Too muck dick?” he sniped as he took a swig from his soda.

Keith replied without missing a beat.

“Too short.”

Lance immediately regretted taking a sip of his drink: He choked at Keith’s reply, tearing the can away from his mouth as he coughed, the harsh sting of carbon fighting to eject itself out of his nose. Pidge almost fell out their chair they were cackling so hard.

At that moment, a loud comical burst of horn came bursting through the open window as a vintage VW beetle swung into the driveway. Lance had never been happier to see Coran in his life – His arrival would save Lance an embarrassing attempt at explaining his reaction to Keith.

Coran kicked open the kitchen door with a dramatic bang, two grocery bags under each arm that were being held much higher than necessary, giving the man an overall comical appearance.

“Have no fear, paladins! Coran has arrived!” he announced loudly as he puffed out his chest.

Allura leapt to help him with the bags, lifting them out of Coran’s tenuous grasp with ease. Hunk leaned across the island to whisper to Pidge.

“What the hell is a paladin?”

“Ah!” Coran shouted as his eyes fell on Keith.

Keith looked startled, an expression that was quickly fringed with fear as Coran strode across the room towards him.

“You must be Keith!” Coran bellowed, grabbing Keith’s gloved hand and shaking it much harder than seemed necessary. “I’m Coran, Allura’s uncle. I’ve heard a lot about your racing skills.”

Keith looked thoroughly perplexed.

“Uhhhh…”

“Adoptive uncle,” Allura murmured as she swooped in to gently pull Keith out of Coran’s enthusiastic hold. “It’s okay, he knows about The Castle of Lions.”

Lance felt a hot throb of jealousy ache in his chest: He’d never gotten such a reaction from Coran when he’d started racing. Keith breathed a small sigh of relief at the news of Coran’s knowledge, and Lance found himself wishing the other boy had been on edge just a little longer. What right did he have to come into _his_ town and make himself so damn comfortable?

Lance’s black thoughts were soon swept under the rug as Coran made a show about organizing teams for the Mario Kart tournament. Lance and Hunk were together, as usual. Pidge teamed up with Allura, and Coran placed himself with Keith.

“What better way to get to know a new paladin than racing with him, eh?” he’d boomed, elbowing Keith in the ribs.

“Again,” mumbled Hunk. “What is a paladin?”

As it turned out, Keith was bad at Mario kart - Something that gave Lance an inordinate amount of joy. Within two races, he’d dropped to the bottom and had been declared disqualified by Coran. He outwardly didn’t seem to care, though Lance caught him glaring at the game controller once or twice, and Lance had to cover his mouth to hide a snicker.

Unfortunately, he was disqualified soon after.

“That was four bananas, Lance! Don’t think I wasn’t watching!” Coran screeched.

Lance heatedly dropped his controller into Hunk’s lap.

“Those rules are bullshit and you know it, moustache!”

Coran simply twirled his facial hair theatrically before turning back to the video game. Lance exhaled dramatically and slumped into the sofa cushions, crossing his arms tightly across his chest so that his shoulder came up to his ears.

“Aw, Lance,” Pidge cooed. “You want another soda? Make you feel better?”

Lance stuck out his bottom lip as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Sure,” he mumbled.

“Great!” Pidge piped up. “Can you get me one, too? They’re in the garage.”

“Ooh ooh! Can you get me one, too? And a snack?” Hunk cried, glancing away from the screen momentarily.

Lance seethed, and he heard Keith chuckle.

“I would mind another drink as well,” Allura hummed thoughtfully.

Lance sighed in defeat.

“How am I meant to carry all that? It’s not like I have… I dunno, like three arms or something,” he grumbled.

Pidge’s grin was practically cannibalistic.

“Take Keith with you.”

Keith stopped chuckling immediately. Lance whirled around to gape at the other boy in horror before rounding on Pidge.

“What?! _Why?_ ”

“Because,” Pidge replied coolly, “Everyone else is still in the tournament, and you don’t have ‘three arms or something’. Plus you can show Keith where the drinks are kept so he knows in future.”

Lance positively balked.

“He’s coming over AGAIN?”

His jaw immediately snapped shut when Keith silently got to his feet and made towards the back door.

“HEY WAIT UP!”

 

Allura frowned at the two boy’s retreating backs. Curiously, she turned her speculative gaze upon Pidge who was sitting quietly on a throw cushion, thumbs flicking rapidly across the game controller.

“What are you up to?” she asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pidge replied innocently.

There was a lilt in their tone that sounded all too much like someone about to drop the knife.

 

Lance followed Keith through the kitchen, his eyes trained furiously on the other boy’s back. A petty sort of smugness filled his chest when Keith tried the garage door only to find it locked.

“You’ve got to get the keys, asshole,” Lance mocked, reaching into cupboard and retrieving a pair of rusted silver keys.

Keith simply gave him a bored look, nonetheless stepping out of the way to allow Lance to unlock the garage door. As the two boys stepped into the space, a gentle draft from under the steel door stirred the dead leaves that littered the stone under their feet.

“Fridge’s over here,” Lance grunted, not looking at Keith.

Yanking open the cover of the drinks cooler, Lance chucked the dark-haired boy a couple of cans, deliberately throwing them badly. Keith caught them anyway, and Lance turned his back, frustrated. Why was Keith so goddamn cool?

“Who were those men at the race?” Keith suddenly asked, breaking the steely silence that Lance had imposed. “The ones that picked up Haxus.”

Lance paused, the can of soda draining the heat from his fingertips. He hesitated for a moment before deciding that Keith would find out soon or later anyway.

“They’re part of a gang called the Galra. They make big money gambling on the races,” Lance answered after a moment, keeping his face impassive.

Keith nodded like he wasn’t surprised.

“I figured something like that was going on here,” he mused. “Is that what you meant by ‘Pick your wins’?”

Lance chewed his lip nervously.

“Something like that,” he mumbled.

Keith stared at him for a long moment, and Lance shifted uncomfortably. Keith’s gaze wasn’t harsh or judgemental, but something about it made Lance squirm self-consciously.

“Thanks for the heads up,” Keith said after a few seconds.

Lance finally lifted his eyes to meet the other boy’s gaze. Keith’s eyes weren’t just navy, he realised. There were flecks of grey and purple dappling his irises, like flowers floating on the ocean.

_Flowers on the ocean?? How goddamn gay can I be?_ He thought aggressively to himself, and promptly tore his eyes away from Keith’s face.

“Yeah, well. No one deserves a beating from those guys just for winning the wrong race.”

As they made their way back into the house, Lance tucked the cans under his arms, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them for warmth.

“Cold?” Keith enquired.

“I’ll be fine,” Lance responded, though it came out more petulantly than he intended.

He looked up to see Keith watching him.

“And before you ask, no I don’t want your tacky gloves.”

Keith’s eyebrows furrowed into a scowl, and he walked past Lance back into living room. Lance followed in silence, handing out the cans and snacks to the people clustered into the living space. He sat down on the other side of the room, as far away from Keith as possible before turning to watch the video game, making sure his eyes stayed glued to the screen. Lance was aware of Pidge looking back and forth between him and Keith, and he pointedly ignored them. Pidge leaned over to Allura, raising a hand to cup their mouth as they whisper-shouted, “I think they’re getting along.”

Allura simply smiled knowingly.


	5. These goddamn gays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's a blushy baby and Lance 100% flirts with all the mechanics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slides you some romance*

Keith couldn’t stop staring at Lance.

He’d taken his car into Shiro’s garage that morning, accompanied by the admiring gasps of a few mechanics. Lance had looked up as he’d gotten out of his car, their eyes locking for a second before he promptly hopped off the bonnet he was sitting on and made his way over to the other side of the garage. Keith couldn’t decide if he was annoyed at Lance’s retreat or flattered that he was respecting Keith’s wish for him to stay away from the vehicle. Shiro had come out of the office with a wide smile, clapping him on the shoulder with his real hand before whistling long and low as he caught sight of Keith’s car.

“Wow, she’s beautiful!” he said with awe, walking around the car to admire it from all angles.

“Yeah, she’s not bad. Needs a few things fixing though,” Keith agreed.

Shiro nodded, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically.

“Well let’s get her elevated and take a look, see what we can do.”

Keith waited patiently as the lift raised his car off the ground, the loud mechanical whirring echoing around the stone space. Involuntarily, Keith looked over at Lance. The tall boy was leaning over the bonnet of an old car, cleaning the engine with a dirty rag as he laughed uninhibitedly at something a fellow mechanic had said. His eyes creased up at the corners as the other man grabbed the rag and whipped him in the hip. Lance yelped and smacked him in the shoulder, though his easy smile gave the gesture an air of affection. Keith felt a small tug at something behind his sternum as his cheeks flared, but he quickly squashed the feeling.

“Enjoying the view?”

Keith snapped out of his trance, whirling round to see Shiro eyeing him with a gentle smile.

“Of the car?” Shiro continued.

His words were accompanied by a mischievous smile before he turned to look up at the vehicle above him.

“Oh-er… Ye-yes,” Keith spluttered.

What was wrong with him?

“Okay, so you said you wanted a new tower brace, right?” Shiro asked and Keith nodded. “That’s good, we can definitely get you fitted up with one of those. Depending on your budget, I’d recommend a GRP4. Maybe an oval instead of a straight bar?”

“Like I said,” Keith interjected. “Money’s not a problem.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

“Okay, well I can have that sorted for you in the next few days. Is there anything else you wanted?”

Keith had a flash of memory.

“I was thinking about getting some new springs installed, too, at the recommendation of a fr- of an accomplice. Coils or something?” he asked, and Shiro raised his eyebrows a little.

“Coilovers. That would definitely help with the tuning, but there a little fiddly to install since…” Shiro gestured to his prosthetic hand, and Keith immediately felt a twinge of guilt.

“The best person to ask about that would be Lance. He’s really good with small tweaks but…” Shiro continued before shutting his mouth sharply as he realised what he’d said.

Keith’s eyes wandered back over to where Lance was now tugging at a few wires around the engine. He looked up briefly to see Keith watching him and froze, the edges of his expression tight as if they were anticipating a scowl. Keith raised his hand in a half wave before smacking it back down to his side. He must’ve look like such a loser. A second passed and Lance’s tight expression dissolved into something much softer. He raised his hand to wave back, palm tilting towards the sky before turning his attention back to the engine.

“Sorry. I know you don’t want him working on your vehicle, so we can find someone else,” Shiro quickly remedied.

“No that’s-“ Keith cut himself off.

What the hell was he doing?

He glanced back at Lance for a second, gnawing his cheek as his thoughts whirled.

“Lance isn’t a bad guy,” Shiro said softly as he sensed Keith’s hesitation. “He can be childish, sure, but I he wouldn’t ruin your car out of spite.”

Keith looked back at Shiro, and he could see the truth of the words glowing in the older man’s eyes.

“Sure,” he mumbled finally. “I just- let me talk to him about it.”

Keith sheepishly made his way over to Lance, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he tried to calm his burning cheeks. Lance looked up as he approached, curiosity and apprehension painting his tan features.

“So, errrr… Listen,” Keith began awkwardly.

He shifted his weight between his feet as if he’d suddenly forgotten how to stand like a normal person.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

“Need something, mullet?” Lance piped up.

Keith felt himself relax a little – Lance being snarky was something he knew how to deal with. Fixing his face into what he hoped was something impassive; Keith took a breath before he spoke.

“The thing you mentioned about changing the springs in my car? Shiro said you were the best person for it,” Keith said, rubbing the back of his neck hesitantly.

Lance took a moment to absorb his words before his mouth curved into a smug grin.

“Oh I see! You suddenly want the help of The Mighty Lance?” he snarked, leaning languidly against the open bonnet of the car, one hand on his hip.

“What happened to ‘Lance must never touch my precious douche-mobile lest he have his hands removed from his person’?”

Keith frowned.

“I never said that,” he grumbled.

Lance huffed out a short laugh, dropping his arm from the bonnet.

“Does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?”

Keith fixed him with a look.

“I don’t hate you.”

That apparently stumped Lance, as the boy dropped his rag. A full second passed before he looked down and swiped the rag off the floor.

“I-You- Does… Does this mean you _liiiiiiiiiiike_ me?” he asked in a sing-song tone, waggling his eyebrows exaggeratedly.

“It _means_ that I’m letting you work on my car,” he said firmly.

Lance’s eyes shot up in surprise, and for a tense moment Keith thought that he was going to refuse out of spite. The moment evaporated when Lance practically leapt over the bonnet, taking off towards Shiro with the glee of a child who’d just been told they could have any toy in the store. Keith jogged to catch up, coming up to Lance’s shoulder as the other boy gazed at the underside of his car.

“Now that is a _nice car_ ,” Lance said appreciatively.

He put his hands on his hips and looked Keith in the eye.

“This is a nice car, Keith.”

Keith felt warmth bloom in his gut, and he distracted himself by turning away from Lance’s pretty blue eyes to let his hair fall around his face.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

Since when did he find Lance’s eyes pretty?

“Alright, let’s bring her down and take a look,” Lance announced, smoothing over Keith’s awkwardness.

He hit a button on the lift and the car started lowered. When it was about a metre off the floor, Lance let go of the button before dropping to his knees and crawling under the vehicle. Keith waited, slightly unsure of what to do with himself. He should probably let the professionals get on with their work, but he found he didn’t want to leave the garage quite yet. Lance stuck his head out from under the car and whistled at a nearby mechanic.

“Can you chuck me that toolbox, Billy?”

Billy did indeed chuck the toolbox.

A screwdriver flew threw the air and smacked Lance squarely in the middle of his forehead. He let out a pained yelp of surprise before falling onto his back, his hands coming up to cover the afflicted area. Keith dropped to his knees, concern flooding him as Lance lay sprawled on the floor.

“Are you okay?”

Lance’s eyes were squeezed tight shut and he was taking deep breaths.

“Yeeep,” he managed to say in a strained voice, his lips popping the “p”.

Lifting one hand he gave a half-hearted wave.

“Thanks, Billy!”

Keith reached towards Lance, hesitating for a second before he wrapped his fingertips around the other boy’s wrist. Lance froze at the contact, his eyes unscrewing a tiny bit.

“Let me see,” Keith murmured.

Somehow, Lance managed to smirk.

“Trying to hold my hand?”

Keith let out a frustrated sigh, rolling his eyes so hard that they were in danger of disappearing back into his skull.

“You’re such a child.”

“Thanks.”

Keith circled his fingers a little more firmly around Lance’s wrist.

“I’m trying to help, now let me see.”

Lance stubbornly held his hands over his face for a little longer before finally allowing Keith to pull them away. He kept his eyes shut as Keith inspected his face, though he couldn’t help the minute shudder that passed through him as the pads of Keith’s thumbs skimmed his forehead.

“You’ll live,” Keith surmised after a minute.

Lance opened his eyes to gasp in mock horror.

“But Keith, I am _injured!_ ”

“You’re pathetic,” Keith snorted.

“Yeah well… Your hair’s stupid,” Lance shot back before sitting up.

Resuming a crouching position, he began fiddling with something Keith couldn’t see underneath the car.

“Wrench.”

Keith frowned. What was Lance-

Lance’s head popped out from underneath the car, a slightly annoyed expression on his face.

“I saaaaaiid, _‘wrench’_ ,” Lance repeated, stretching the vowels out.

He pointed to the toolbox at Keith’s feet.

“There. Gimme,” Lance said, opening and closing the fingers of his outstretched hand in a grabbing motion.

Keith blinked, finally understanding. He handed Lance the tool and watched the tall mechanic disappear under the car again.

“You… Do you need another tool?” Keith asked when Lance didn’t reappear.

“ _You’re_ a tool!” came Lance’s reply, quick as a flash.

Keith grumpily crossed his arms across his chest.

“You know what, I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll just ask Shiro to work on my car,” he huffed before turning to walk away.

“Nononononono wait! Keith! Come back I didn’t mean it!” Lance cried as he came scrambling out from under the vehicle.

Keith stopped in his tracks, turning to fix Lance with a glare.

“Aaaah I just-,” Lance nervously wiped his hands on the rag hanging out of his pocket. “It’s just a habit of mine. I say a lot of shit, y’know? S’like I don’t have a filter.”

“Obviously,” Keith retorted.

Lance bit his lip uncertainly, and Keith suddenly felt very hot in his jacket. Lance looked… _cute._

“Do you wanna see what we’re doing?” Lance asked, breaking the silence.

Keith blinked at him, oblivious. Lance reached out to grab his hand, tugging him back towards the car lift.

“C’mon, I’ll show you what we’re working on,” he explained as he dragged Keith behind him.

Keith looked down at where Lance’s fingers wrapped around his own, and suddenly wished he wasn’t wearing his gloves so that he could feel Lance’s skin on his. Whilst his fingers looked grubby and calloused, Keith could see that the skin on the back of his hand looked supple and soft, and he wondered what it would feel like under his touch. Okay, so maybe he did wanna hold Lance’s hand a little bit.

Ducking under the vehicle, Keith peered up at where Lance was pointing.

“So this bit here is where we’re gonna put the new springs, but first we have to detach the sway bar and the strut mounts. We need to do that anyway since you’re getting a new brace in so it’s pretty good that you’re getting it all done at once.”

And he was off, talking a million miles a minute. Keith turned his gaze to the other boy, watching Lance’s face as he spoke. His smile lit up his entire being as he gestured frantically at something, and a small pinch formed between his eyebrows as he contemplated using a different part, one hand raising to rub his chin. Lance’s eyes swivelled to the side to catch Keith staring. Keith looked away, embarrassed.

“Aaaaaaand I’m rambling. Sorry, I don’t know how much of this stuff you already know…” Lance trailed off, suddenly very quiet.

“No, it’s interesting,” Keith assured him.

Lance gave him a sceptical look before suddenly his eyes widened and he looked down to their still clasped hands. Keith followed his line of sight and automatically jerked away. He immediately wished he hadn’t, as cold air flooded the area where Lance’s hold had been warming his skin. The absence of contact felt like a brand. Lance looked a little baffled, blinking and coughing awkwardly before moving past the moment the only way he knew how: With all the finesse of a freight train.

“SO!” he said all too loudly, “THAT’S PRETTY MUCH WHAT’S GONNA BE HAPPENING YEP GLAD YOU UNDERSTAND AND EVERYTHING AND THAT YOU’RE HAPPY OKAY I’M JUST GONNA GET SOME MORE TOOLS BYE!”

Lance practically army-rolled out from under the car, scuttling away into the stock room and leaving Keith perplexed. After a moment, he stiffly got out from under the car and straightened, watching after Lance as the tall boy’s back retreated at the speed of sound. A slurping noise to Keith’s right distracted him from what had just transpired, and he turned to see Shiro leaning against the wall of the office, watching Keith over the rim of his coffee mug.

“What?” Keith asked after a silent few seconds.

Shiro shook his head as he swallowed a mouthful of coffee, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Nothing. It’s just nice to see you and Lance getting along,” he remarked casually.

“He basically just kicked me out of the garage,” Keith pointed out.

“Yeah…” Shiro agreed, raising the mug to his lips again. “He also said he was glad that you were happy.”

Keith felt his cheeks burn, and he avoided Shiro’s knowing gaze.

“I’ll um… Just give me a call when I should pick her up,” Keith muttered as he patted the shining body of his car.

“I’ll have Lance let you know,” Shiro assured him, though his tone was entirely too demure.

Keith mumbled some sort of thanks before heading out of the garage, cheeks still burning. Whatever was happening to him, Lance was apparently the cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hnnnnnng yeah okay so I'm bad at writing but I promise there is an actual plot to this thing!


	6. A shot of bourbon, neat.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something strange is happening at the street races, and Keith doesn't like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so... There are female pronouns for Pidge in this chapter so if that's something that might be a problem for you then feel free to just... Not read this chapter, I can summarise it in the end notes.
> 
> As for everything else, Keith is precious and I love him <3

“Lance can you pass me the salt?” Hunk shouted from where he was hunched over the stove.

Lance grabbed the saltcellar out of the cupboard and sauntered slowly towards his friend. When he was about 5 feet away, Pidge hopped off the bar stool by the island and stood in his path.

“Ah ah ah! You can just pass me that, thanks. I’ll make sure Hunk gets it just fine,” Pidge said firmly, palm outstretched.

Lance groaned in frustration, tucking the saltcellar protectively under his arm.

“Pidge. Pigeon. Buddy. Pal. My guy-“

“Girl today.”  
“My girl. C’mon,” Lance pleaded.

Pidge shook her head sternly.

“You’re not getting the recipe, Lance. Now give me the salt so Hunk can continue making his delicious marinade, nectar of the Gods.”

Lance groaned in defeat before thrusting the saltcellar into Pidge’s open hand.

“Someday, Hunk. Someday _soon_ ,” Lance promised as Hunk sprinkled a pinch of salt into the pan.

The front door slammed and Keith walked into the kitchen, his hair a tad messier than usual. Lance followed him with his eyes, feeling the urge to reach over and smooth that damn mullet into place.

“Sorry I’m late,” Keith said, running his fingers through his dark locks in an effort to comb them.

“That’s okay, you didn’t miss anything,” Pidge replied. “Drink? We have alcohol!”

“Err yeah sure,” Keith said. “Have you got bourbon?”

Lance and Hunk both turned to look at him.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a whiskey kinda guy,” Lance said.

Keith finally turned his navy gaze upon the other boy, face curious but guarded.

“What would you have pegged me as?”

“He’d have pegged you, period,” Pidge quipped as she slid Keith a tumbler of whiskey.

_“Pidge!”_

Pidge whooped with laughter as Lance hissed at her. Keith coughed and turned away, and Lance saw the tips of his ears flush pink.

_Oh great, now he feels embarrassed_ for _me,_ Lance growled to himself.

“Vodka, maybe?” Hunk interjected, moving swiftly on from Pidge’s crude remark. “You’ve got that edge, y’know? Like you’d go to a bar and be like ‘Gimme vodka, straight,’ and then just knock it back in one.”  
“Except there’s nothing straight about Keith,” Pidge added through her chortling.

Lance expected Keith to snap the way he had, but the other boy just gave the small girl a wry smile as he said, “Right.”

Lance thought he was going to choke. Keith was so incredibly comfortable in his sexuality it honestly made him feel slightly jealous. He peeked through his lashes at the other boy, trying to ignore how knowing Keith was gay made his insides feel like a writhing pit of snakes. The dark haired boy turned his attention towards Lance.

“So…?” Keith prompted.

“Errr…” Lance stuttered as he tried to remember the question. “I dunno, rum I guess? Or gin.”

Keith snorted.

“What am I? Ninety?”

Lance tried not to think about how Keith’s smirk made him feel like he was both incredibly cool and super lame at the same time. It made him feel like the other boy had told him he was going to rob a bank and that Lance was invited. It was both a dare and an opportunity, neither of which Lance felt he could handle, and so he wrenched his gaze away, focusing heavily on the pan Hunk was currently stirring.

Pidge let out a small chuckle.

“I think Lance wants the barbeque recipe more than he wants to win at Lion Castle,” she giggled.

Lance scowled at her, though he was thankful to focus on something other than the pretty raven-haired boy across from him.

“At least tell me what kind of secret ingredient it is,” he tried to negotiate.

“Sorry, buddy! I’ve been sworn to secrecy!” Hunk insisted, lifting the spoon to taste the sauce.

“It is a spice?” Lance asked.

Hunk shook his head, eyes closed as if trying to block out the other boy.

“Come on! Is it a vegetable? A _fruit_? Some kind of liquid?”

Hunk froze and Lance knew he’d struck gold.

“IT IS!” he shrieked in triumph. “Tell me now! Is it vinegar? Apple juice?”

Hunk fidgeted wildly, trying his best to shield the pan as Lance attempted to peer over his shoulder.

“Lance, it’s not-“

“If it’s plain old water, Hunk, I swear I will kill a man. Not you, obviously, but _someone!_ Probably Keith!”

Keith’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of his name, and amusement sparkled in the dark pools of his eyes. Dammit he was pretty.

“Pfffff,” Pidge scoffed. “As if you could kill Keith. Look at his arms!”

Lance looked at Keith’s arms and immediately wished he hadn’t.

He was suddenly all too aware that Keith was wearing a simple black t-shirt, exposing the toned cording of his arm muscles. God, the guy wasn’t even flexing and Lance could see the strength in them.

_He could probably bench press me,_ Lance thought in awe. _Maybe he should bench press me. I’d totally let him bench press me._

Lance slammed a wall down on the highly suggestive thoughts that threatened to come pouring through his mind and (if history was anything to go by) straight out of his mouth. He clamped his jaw shut in an effort to keep any words from accidentally spilling off his tongue. Keith just sipped his whiskey innocently, that fucker.

“That’s totally not- I mean… Keith!” Lance spluttered, and Pidge stifled a snicker.

Lance pointed accusatorily at the tumbler in Keith’s hand.

“Aren’t you _driving?”_

Keith looked at him with thorough confusion.

“My car’s in the shop,” he replied.

Lance mentally slapped himself. _Of course_ Keith wasn’t racing tonight.

“Speaking of tonight,” Pidge said, “We’d better get going. I think I can see Allura’s jeep.”

Sure enough, a flash of headlights passed through the room as Allura pulled into the drive, the high beam refracting through the front window of the house and around the kitchen. Hunk turned the stove off and covering the pan with a lid, grabbing his jacket and slinging it over his shoulders.

“Allura’s driving you guys?” Lance enquired.

Pidge and Hunk exchanged a look.

“Errrr, well Pidge is riding her scooter and Allura’s giving me a ride so…” Hunk trailed off, his eyes darting around the room as he avoided Lance’s gaze.

“So.... Allura’s taking you and Keith?” Lance asked.

“Nope!” Pidge all but shouted. “She’s got all this stuff in the back of her jeep. Super messy. No room. Only space for one person.”

Lance frowned at the outburst, his mind ticking away through the options as Keith turned to him and spoke.

“Looks like I’m riding with you.”

The pieces slot into place in Lance’s mind, and his head snapped up to stare at Pidge and Hunk in panic. Pidge was already tugging Hunk out the door.

“GottagoseeyoutwoatLionCastleLancekeepbothhandsonthewheel _BYE!”_

And they were gone, the front door slamming behind them with a resounding bang. Lance stared after them for a full ten seconds before turning his horrified expression towards Keith. The other boy was looking at him through the dark locks that fell over his navy eyes, his face expectant. Lance gulped, crushing the overwhelming urge to reach over and brush those bangs out of Keith’s face.

“Ummm… I… Sh-should we- Shall we get going?” Lance stuttered.

Keith’s unwavering stare was making him feel incredibly hot under his skin, his stomach fluttering nervously as he tried to figure out what to do with his hands. Lance had been leaning on the table, but now he kept shifting them about awkwardly on and off the counter top, painfully aware that he probably looked like a basket case.

“Sure,” Keith said cooly.

God dammit, why did he have to be so cool about everything?

Keith knocked back the last of his whiskey, dropping the tumbler back on the counter and he slid off the barstool. Lance’s eyes couldn’t help but wander down his legs at the action, his gaze tracing every line and curve wrapped in tight dark denim.

“Lance?”

_Fuck!_

He’d totally been staring.

“YES! SORRY! OKA-“

“You don’t have to shout,” Keith interrupted, though his voice wasn’t unkind.

Normally Lance would’ve been pissed at the comment, but he found that he sort of appreciated Keith preventing him from going on a screaming tirade.

“Er yeah, sorry,” Lance mumbled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “Lemme just…”

Lance wandered down the hallway, reaching into the closet under the stairs to pull his emblazoned blue leather jacket out from behind a pile of coats. He lifted the jacket, feeling slightly too conscious of how the hem of his shirt rose above the waistband of his jeans to expose the skin of his stomach as he slipped his arms into the sleeves. Straightening out the collar, he turned back towards Keith. The other boy’s eyes were wide, his face a little flushed as his mouth hung open slightly, completely dazed.

“Whoa, you okay there, mullet man?” Lance worried.

_Since when am I worried about Keith?_

Keith blinked, snapping his head away.

“I’m fine,” he said brusquely.

When he remained silent, Lance shrugged, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he stepped outside. He slipped into the driver’s seat, feeling the weight of the car shift as Keith climbed in the passenger side.

They drove in silence, and Lance’s naturally couldn’t help but fidget. The lack of conversation was getting to him, and as was his nature, Lance felt the need to fill it.

“SO!” he started before wincing at how loud his voice was in the confined space. Keith glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and Lance cleared his throat awkwardly.

“What brings you to this city?” Lance asked.

Better to ask a broad question to start with, he though. Steer clear of stuff that was too personal.

Keith didn’t speak for a few seconds, as if contemplating his answer.

“I was… Recommended this place for racing,” he responded.

When it became clear that Keith wasn’t going to elaborate, Lance tried a different approach.

“What got you into racing?”

Keith looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a second, his jaw setting as his expression darkened a shade. After a moment, he sighed, shoulders dipping slightly.

“I was in a training program for professional racing, but I didn’t like the way the company treated their drivers. They had a bit of a reputation for encouraging risky moves on the track and it didn’t always pay off. They treated us like our lives were expendable.”

Keith said the words like they were a report, clipped and emotionless, but a sideways glance told Lance that the other boy was actually upset.

Keith inhaled deeply to steady himself.

“I left racing, but I feel like racing never really left me. I still craved speed and the thrill of the chase. That was when I found out about street races and, well, here I am.”

Lance snorted.

“Yeah, lucky me.”

Keith’s face shut closed like and trap. He turned his whole body round to glare pointedly out the window, and Lance bit his tongue, furious at himself.

“Shit, Keith, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Keith stubbornly kept facing away for a few more moments before peering back over his shoulder, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

“So what about you?” he asked. “What made you wanna race?”

“Who? Me?” Lance asked dramatically, quirking an eyebrow at Keith who just rolled his eyes. “I dunno, just working with vehicles at Shiro’s I guess. I love the feeling of the car underneath me, knowing that I help tune its movements. That and the pay out is _great!_ ”

Keith grinned, and Lance bit his lip to keep the influx of complimentary thoughts from escaping his mouth.

“Like you need the money with a car like this,” Keith said. He rubbed the seat appreciatively. “Corinthian?”

Lance’s smile wavered for a second, and he clenched his jaw to tame his expression.

“Haha, yeah! She’s a beaut,” he said with a forced laugh. “This car is my absolute baby! I raised her from a young age, out of the ashes like a phoenix.”

Keith frowned.

“It’s a machine.”

Lance just shook his head.

“Seriously though, Keith. I practically built this thing myself, she was totally beat up when I found her. It took a lot of love to get her running the way she does now.”

Keith stared hard at Lance, like he was trying to work something out. Lance hoped the other boy couldn’t see his blush in the darkness.

“Does she have a name?” Keith enquired, reaching out to skim his hand over the dashboard.

Lance’s eyes flickered over Keith’s fingers, long and pale, and recalled how they had felt when he’d grabbed them at the garage. The thought sent a little thrill shooting up his arm.

“Blue.”

“Blue?” Keith sounded almost offended. “That’s… Kind of simple.”

“Yeah?” Lance challenged. “Well what’s yours called?”

Keith paused, his shoulders hunching as he curled in only himself slightly, averting his eyes. He mumbled something inaudible.

“What?” Lance said loudly. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Keith took a deep breath.

“I said, ‘it’s called Red’.”

Lance laughed out loud, ignoring how Keith glowered at him. He shot a grin Keith’s way.

“Dork.”

Before Keith could throw an insult back, Lance turned the car into this week’s venue. The pair climbed out of Lance’s Mustang, making their way over to where Pidge and Hunk were standing by the odds board.

“Stakes are looking a bit spiky tonight,” Pidge observed.

Keith agreed – The disparity between the numbers against the names this evening was larger than usual, and he wondered if the Galra gang had something to do with it. He chanced a peek over at Lance to see the taller boy bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes skimming over the top of the crowd. His gaze halted as he found what he was looking for, and Keith turned to see that same creepy shadow lurking a little way off.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” Lance announced, stuffing his hands into his jacket pocket.

Keith had come to relate the action to grim acceptance, not something he was sure he liked.

“Where are you going?” Hunk asked, sounding a little nervous.

“You know me,” Lance drawled. “I’ve got ladies to please.”

“And gentleman,” Pidge noted.

“And gentleman!” Lance said with a wave, skipping backwards a little before he turned and disappeared through the crowd.

Keith’s eyes followed him, glued to the dark blue lion patched onto the back of his jacket.

“I’ll be right back,” he muttered, ignoring Pidge and Hunk’s confused looks.

He started to weave his way into the crowd when a flash of something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Turning his head, he saw something glinting near Lance’s car, and a strange protectiveness curled around his heart. He changed course, slinking through the compact mess of bodies towards the blue Mustang. Springing free from the crowd, he caught sight of a girl leaning over the hood. She was tall and thin, long pale hair cascading down her back in two pigtails as her dark eyes roamed the car hungrily. Keith watched as she stepped back from the vehicle, a dangerously satisfied smile on her face.

“Hey!”

The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was doing. The girl startled, leaping a considerable distance away from the car. _Lance’s_ car. Keith felt weirdly responsible for the blue Mustang after what Lance had told him about building it. The thing was important to him.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

The girl’s face cracked into a delighted smile that was just a fraction to wide to seem natural.

“Oh I’m sorry! I’m just such a big fan of the Blue Lion that I simply _HAD_ to take a look at his car!” she said in a high whiny voice.

She spoke like a valley girl, though Keith largely suspected that was intentional.

“What were you doing to it?” he insisted.

The girl’s smile somehow got wider.

“I couldn’t help but touch it! It’s just so pretty! I’d be so lucky if Lance let me ride in it with him!”

Keith zeroed in immediately.

“How do you know his name?”

But the girl was already walking away, waving blithely over her shoulder.

Keith waited until she’d disappeared into the throng of people, her blonde hair swishing behind her before he turned back to the car. Popping the hood, he searched for any signs of damage. He wasn’t as well versed in mechanics as the other’s but he knew how to do a basic once over. When he was satisfied all was well, Keith slammed the hood of the car down.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Keith span around at the indignant voice to see Lance storming his way, face incredulous.

“I saw someone hanging around Blue,” he explained. “I wanted to make sure they weren’t messing about with her.”

“Uh huh,” Lance said in an unconvinced tone. “Sure that someone wasn’t you?”

Drawing up to Keith, he made a show of popping the hood again, his eyes scrutinising the engine in the dim light.

“Of course not!” Keith cried defensively.

Lance shot him a serious stink eye, and Keith felt his hackles go up.

“Lance, I didn’t touch your car!” he pleaded when the other boy made no move to lower the bonnet.

Lance looked at him again, and Keith could see a flash of hurt behind his eyes.

“I would never,” he said, dropping his voice to a far gentler tone. “Not whilst you’re working on Red. And especially not after what you told me.”

Lance continued to stare at him for a few seconds, his expression flickering between anger and upset before finally settling on resigned.

“Fine,” he sighed.

Reaching up to grab the edge of the bonnet, he hesitated, eyes scanning the engine one last time as if desperate to find a flaw. The thought send a twinge of anger through Keith: Did Lance seriously think he was that kind of guy? Reaching up to grab the bonnet as well, his fingers accidentally closed over Lance’s, and they both gasped. Lance’s eyes bore into Keith’s, electric blue and intense. Keith tightened his grip a little, both to steady himself and to reassure Lance.

“I promise you,” he said softly.

Lance dipped his head in acceptance, finally slamming the bonnet shut. He still held Keith’s hand, squeezing his fingers lightly. Keith steeled himself, mentally taking a breath before he rubbed a thumb over Lance’s knuckles. The taller boy’s lips parted at the affectionate action, and his wary expression faded into a guilty half-smile.

“I’m sorry man. I know you wouldn’t d anything. It’s just… High stakes tonight, you know? I can’t afford for anything to go wrong.”

Keith swooped in on the opportunity.

“Is that was you were talking about with that guy?”

Lance snatched his hand away from Keith’s, his eyes widening with fear. Before he had a chance to say anything, Grimble called his stage name over the crowd.

Lance gave Keith a lingering look, swallowing thickly before he silently climbed into the Mustang. Keith felt something cold settle in his stomach as Lance drew his car up to the start line.

Something was happening at these races. Something that involved Lance, and Keith didn’t like it one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary for people avoiding Pidge w female pronouns:  
> -Lance tries to find out Hunk's secret ingredient for BBQ marinade  
> -Lance and Keith drive to the races together bc Keith's car is in the shop  
> -Lance and Keith talk about how they got into racing   
> -Keith sees someone tampering with Lance's car and goes to investigate  
> -Lance mistakenly think Keith has been tampering with his car. Keith assures him he wasn't.
> 
> Aaaand yeah. I feel like I've gone a bit too plot heavy on this fic but at the same time... I really like the plot? There will much much fluff (and smut) to come, please be patient and let me know your thoughts!!!


	7. Nyma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of the race are bad in ways the Keith didn't anticipate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hnnnnnnnnng okay I'm TRYING to write in the fluff. I am trying.  
> But all this angst keeps getting into my soup and it's just like "Gross! What are you doing here? Get out!"
> 
> idek I suck

Keith couldn’t shake the horrible chill that had settled over his skin like a gel: Thin, yet clinging in a way that wasn’t comfortable. He watched with an unfamiliar sense of anxiety as Lance’s car crawled up to the start line.

“Keith!”

Keith turned to see Hunk waving at him a little way off. “Keith! Over here!”

He joined Hunk and Pidge, eyes glued to the Mustang as its engine purred in anticipation.

Grimble’s voice boomed over the crowd, hushing the eager babble as he announced the competitors.

“And tonight! Racing for the crown we have our esteemed majesty, _EL LEÓN AZUL!_ ”

The typical roar of appreciation came from the crowd, the spectators clamouring to get a better view of the car. Grimble nodded at the raucous, a grin plastered across his face.

“And racing against His Highness this fine evening, we have an extremely loud blast from the past! Give it up for Bountyyyyyyyyy HUNTER!”

There was a shift in the crowd’s cheer. It was a strange sort of excitement that set Keith on edge. He watched as the second car pulled up to the starting point.

It was distinctly bulky in design, the square-like shape of the body giving it the appearance of a machine built for strength, not speed, and Keith struggled to see how their was any competition between the two vehicles.

Allura strode out between the two cars, exchanging a few words with Lance before turning towards his competitor.

The front window of the boxy car rolled down, and the girl with long pigtails leaned out, leering at Lance.

Keith snarled audibly, and Pidge turned to him in surprise.

“What on earth has gotten into you?” she asked, eyes wide in confusion.

“That girl,” Keith hissed, surprised at the venom in his tone. “ I saw her earlier.”

Hunk peered at the girl through the headspaces of the crowd.

“Oooooh, that’s Nyma,” he crooned anxiously. “She and Lance have a um… “

He shot a nervous glance at Keith before finishing. “History.”

A stab of anger poked Keith in the chest, and he found he suddenly wanted to know exactly what Hunk’s words meant. What did he mean history? Had Lance and Nyma had bad business dealings? Did she screw him over? Had they used to date? Keith quashed the volatile mixture of anger and jealousy that swirled in his chest, and he bit back his string of questions with some effort.

“I saw her by Lance’s car,” he informed the pair.

_“WHAT?”_

It was Pidge who spoke, her aggressive tone failing to hide the twang of fear in the word. Keith turned to see Hunk gaping in horror, and the chill he’d been feeling earlier morphed into a horrible queasiness in the pit of his stomach.

“What’s goi-“

“We have to stop the race!” Pidge near shouted as she took off towards the start line.

There was a note of panic in her tone that spread to Keith like wildfire, and he didn’t even stop to think as he elbowed his way through the mass of warm bodies in pursuit. Allura raised her arms, and a bubble of fear leapt of Keith’s throat.

“Allura!” Pidge yelled, using her small frame to flit through the gaps in the crowd.

Allura’s eyes passed between the two drivers, and Keith’s stomach plunged as he realised they were too late.

_“ALLURA!”_

The tall girl’s head snapped towards the sound of her name as Pidge burst through the throng of people, and concern marred her features a split second after her hands came down around her hips.

The sound of tyres screeching shot through Keith’s ears like a spear, and he watched as the two cars launched away from the starting line. He thought he yelled Lance’s name, but he wasn’t sure, too focused on the disappearing taillights to be aware of anything else.

He turned to Pidge and Hunk, and his pulse spiked at the panic in their eyes.

“What’s going on?” Keith demanded as he strode over to them.

“Well, you see, Nyma’s a- well she kinda has a-“

“She’s a bitch,” Pidge said venomously, cutting off Hunk. “She has a habit of jacking people’s cars so that she can win races. Except no one can prove it so she gets away with it every time.”

Keith felt a wave of real fear rock through his system. If Nyma had been tampering with Blue, who knows what she could have done to the system. Lance could be in real danger. Keith turned his eyes towards the course, raking over Lance’s Mustang as it curbed the first corner. He searched for any signs of the car faulting, any hint of smoke from the bonnet, any whisper of sparks from the exhaust. His whole body felt tense, wound tight like a coil ready to spring.

Lance and Nyma pulled out of the first turn, Lance’s whoop of joy audible from his rolled down window. Keith watched the race with a sickening sense of dread as he waited for the knife to fall. The cars took the next few turns just as smoothly, Lance pulling ahead at the penultimate corner. His cocky grinned flashed from the driver’s window, and Keith could see the thrill of victory in his eyes.

Then the cars pulled into the final turn. Keith’s heart was in his mouth as he watched Nyma’s cumbersome vehicle take the corner clumsily, the weight of the structure dragging the back wheels wide as Lance was already on the home stretch. For a split second, Keith fooled himself into believing everything was going to be alright – If Lance could just make the last 200m, he’d be in the clear and he’d have won the race, and he’d be _safe_.

Blue roared as Lance hit the gas, the car bursting forth with speed as it approached the finish line. Keith felt the anticipation of a smile, ready to cheer at the win when-

 

_BANG_

The loud noise ruptured through the air like thunder. Blue’s engine revved so noisily it almost swallowed the bang, her tyres whirling as the car veered sharply to the left. Pidge clapped a hand over her mouth as Hunk let out a small scream. Keith watched in horror as thick tendrils of black smoke poured from the cracks under the bonnet. Nyma’s chunky car rolled past, crossing the finish line with a lurch as Blue’s engine died. Nyma daintily climbed out of the vehicle, tossing a long pigtail over her shoulder as she beamed at the spectators in satisfaction. The crowd’s reaction was raucous, many people shouting angrily as a few others cheered. Keith launched forward, sprinting over to Blue as the crowds mobbed the odds board. He was less the 5ft away when the driver’s door swung open and Lance stepped out, covering his mouth with arm as he coughed loudly.

“Lance!”

Keith grabbed Lance’s shoulders as the other boy wiped his streaming eyes. He slotted his fingers under the other boy’s chin, turning his head to the side to inspect for injury. Lance looked a little dazed, and the smoke had left a gritty residue on his skin, but he otherwise looked fine. Keith felt the tense coil of his body unwind slightly, and resisted the overwhelming urge to wrap Lance in his arms and never let go: He didn’t want to smother him if he was having trouble breathing.

“Lance!”

Keith turned to see Pidge and Hunk running towards them, and moved to pull one of Lance’s arms over his shoulders to support him. Lance took a deep shuddering breath, his eyes focusing on Keith’s face for a moment, and the look of relief on his feature nearly knocked the breath out of the dark-haired boy. Suddenly, Lance’s eyes widened in shock. His lips parted as he breathed a single word:

“Blue.”

Lance ripped himself away from Keith, striding round to the front of his car as he covered his nose with his sleeve. He yanked the bonnet open, tripping back a couple of steps as huge plumes of thick black smoke billowed from the engine.

“Lance, get BACK!”

Keith was surprised to see that it was Hunk who had shouted. The large man grabbed his friend firmly around the waist, effectively lifting him up and depositing him away from the car. Pidge grabbed Lance’s arm as he moved towards Blue again, eyes round as saucers in shock. Hunk waved away the worst of the smoke, tying a bandana around his nose and mouth as he peered in to have a look at the engine. Lance was being uncharacteristically quiet, his fingers knotting together as he silently fretted. Hunk’s brow furrowed deeply, and Keith thought Lance was going to break his own fingers with how aggressively he was wringing them.

Very calmly, Keith reached over to Lance, covering his twining hands with one of his own. Lance’s eyes snapped towards him, his eyebrows pulled together in distress as he chewed his lip. Keith wanted to reach out with his other hand and brush his lip over Lance’s mouth to free his lip from between his teeth, but he didn’t. Instead, he squeezed Lance’s hand gently, watching as the other boy’s breathing calmed marginally.

After a heavy minute, Hunk straightened up, turning to the cluster of friends with a wan smile.

“We can fix her, Lance,” he said with a soothing confidence.

Unfortunately, Lance didn’t seem all that reassured, and his grip around Keith’s hand tightened.

Hunk carefully closed the bonnet, waving away the last of the smoke as he removed the bandana from his face.

“I can duct tape the engine for now. That should hold until we get her into Shiro’s tomorrow morning. For now, we’ll just wheel her off the track.”

Lance remained silent, his body shaking slightly with worry, but he managed to give Hunk a weak smile as he nodded. His gaze turned towards the finish line, watching Nyma with a strange sort of resigned melancholy that made Keith acutely concerned. When he opened his mouth to speak, Keith’s heart sank.

“I’ve gotta go,” Lance said in a gravelly tone.

“What?!” Pidge squawked. “We need to get you to a hospital, get some fresh oxygen into your lungs. God knows how much smoke you inhaled!”

“I’m fine, Pidge. Really,” Lance replied grimly.

He tore his eyes away from Nyma to give Pidge a half smile.

“Nooooo nonononono, no you don’t. Dr Hunk is prescribing at least one trip to AE,” Hunk insisted with a maternal wag of his finger.

Lance’s mouth twisted into an annoyed grimace.

“ _Later_ , Hunk. I promise, I’ll go later,” he said, stepping away from the party. “But for now I’ve really gotta-“

Lance stopped walking away as Keith tugged on his arm, ocean blue eyes following the path down his shoulder to look at where their hands were still clasped. Keith bit his lip, shooting Lance a silent message with his eyes.

_Stay._

Lance gulped, screwing his eyes shut as he turned, pulling his hand out of Keith’s grasp.

“Hey!” Pidge yelled at his retreating back. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Ladies!” Lance yelled over his shoulder without turning to look back. “And gentlemen!”

The three of them watched in morbid confusion as Lance stepped into the crowd, pushing past the people yelling in his face and slapping him on the back.

“Where is he going?” Hunk asked softly, a sad echo of Pidge’s question.

Keith looked down at his hand where Lance’s fingers had been mere seconds before, a strange mixture of emotions swirling inside him like a witch’s cauldron.

“Sooooo…”

Keith looked up to see Hunk and Pidge squinting at him.

“Are you gonna ask him out?” Pidge prompted.

Keith felt his jaw go slack.

“What?” he asked deadpan.

“Uh, you really like each other and something’s going on with him?” Hunk supplied.

Keith balked at the pair of them. As if now was the right time to be talking about his feelings! Turning back to the crowd, Keith watched Lance’s tawny hair disappear around a corner, and he felt himself come to a decision.

“I’m going after him,” he announced.

Without waiting for a response, Keith strode forward, shoving his way back into the crowd. He heard Pidge yell something snarky after him, but he didn’t wait to find out what. Lance was acting weirdly, and he needed to make sure he was okay. He rounded the corner where he’d seen Lance go, walking in between two shipping containers. Keith listened for the sound of voices, the soft patter of feet on the concrete, anything that might lead him to Lance. But all he heard was the faint roar of the crowd in the distance, the high-pitched squeal of tyres whirling against the ground. After twenty minutes of searching, Keith gave up, stalking back to the crowd in a black mood. Wherever Lance was, he didn’t want Keith to find him. The thought sent a sharp twinge of sadness through Keith, though he decided he didn’t want to ponder on the why. He joined Pidge and Hunk at the outskirts of the crowd, filling them in on how Lance had disappeared.

The crowd began to dissipate shortly after everyone had collected their winnings from the end of the last race, a few people milling about around the fire barrels as they discussed the events from the night.

“It’s weird that Lance hasn’t come to get his car,” Pidge said.

She said the words idly, though she couldn’t help worry from clouding her tone.

“It’s weird that Lance hasn’t showed up all night,” Hunk pointed out, and his eyebrows knit together with concern.

Keith watched the pair fret, his own uneasiness writhing like sickness under his skin.

“I can take his car back,” Keith said.

Pidge and Hunk exchanged a glance.

“Look, Keith, it’s not that we don’t trust you to take care of Blue but…” Pidge began, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“We really think that we should find Lance,” Hunk finished.

Keith looked between the two of them. He hadn’t noticed before due to his own moodiness, but the two looked genuinely concerned. There were lingering creases between their eyebrows from where they had been frowning, and a certain stiffness to their features and body language that made them seem anything but relaxed.

Keith let out a sigh, uncrossing his arms to let them hang by his sides.

“I got a lift here with Lance,” he began steadily. “I’ll find him and I’ll make sure he, _and his car_ , get home safe.”

He levelled Pidge and Hunk both with a meaningful stare, trying his best to convey the honesty behind his words. Pidge and Hunk exchanged another look, a silent conversation passing between them before they turned back to Keith.

“Make sure he gets home safe, Keith,” Hunk said solemnly, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “If anything happens to him I’ll- Well, _I_ won’t do anything. But Pidge will probably steal your identity and make you, like, the most wanted man in Germany or something.”

Keith’s laugh died in his throat when Pidge didn’t smile at the comment, instead tilting her glasses in a way that made the light glint off them menacingly. He gave them both a resolute nod, turning on his heel to walk towards the shipping containers again.

The steel containers seemed a lot more eerie without the hubbub of the races to bounce around them, the tall looming structures rather ominous in their silence.

“Laaaaaance!” Keith called as he walked a winding path through the site.

A muffled noise a little way off caught his attention. Keith turned towards it, his fingers running over the ridges of the containers as he carefully stalked forwards.

“Lance?” he said quietly.

Rounding a corner, he caught sight of Lance leaning against one of the steel units as he had been all those weeks ago. His face was turned towards the sky, the glow of the moon lining his features in silver. The breeze tugged gently at the longer hair by his ears, and the chill of the night made his breath fog up in front of his face. Keith felt his breath catch in his throat for a moment as he once again found himself thinking how beautiful Lance looked when he was at peace.

But Lance was not at peace.

A thick sense of dread crawled over Keith like a leaden blanket as he took in the other boy fully.

Lance’s eyes were screwed shut tight, his teeth bared in a grimace as his shoulders rose and fell with laboured breath. His arms were tucked tight into his sides, and one hand clutched feverishly at his ribs.

“Lance!”

Keith sprang forward, racing in front of the other boy as he cupped his face gently with his hands. Lance cracked a half-hearted smirk.

“Aww,” he wheezed. “You do care about me.”

“What happened?” Keith said, ignoring him.

“Fell over,” Lance grunted.

“Let me see.”

Keith reached for the hem of Lance’s shirt when Lance batted him away, the action causing him to wince.

“I’m fine!” he insisted, drawing in a ragged breath.

“No. You’re not,” Keith argued.

Lance shot him a glare, but there was no real anger behind it. He apparently didn’t even have the energy to be pissed at Keith. When he remained silent, Keith sighed.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” he said gently.

“NO!”

Keith startled at Lance’s scared expression. One of the boy’s hands had snaked out, grabbing at the collar of Keith’s jacket for support.

“No hospitals,” he whispered, not looking Keith in the eye.

Keith wanted to argue. He wanted to yell at Lance right there for being an idiot and not taking care of himself, but instead he gritted his teeth. Looping on of Lance’s arms around his shoulders, he gently lifted the other boy, careful to avoid his bad side as he helped him take a few steps forward.

“Let’s get you home,” he murmured.

The pair stumbled towards the track. Blue was off to one side, looking extremely forlorn in the moonlight with all her lights off. Keith tried not to think about how close Lance’s face was to his, or how his own skin felt hot and red at the thought that all he had to do was turn his head and-

“Keys.”

Lance shot him a confused look.

“What?” he said intelligibly.

“You can’t drive like this,” Keith explained. “I’m going to have to do it, so give me your keys.”

Lance hesitated for a fraction of a second before reaching into his jacket pocket with a pained wheeze and pulling out his car keys. Keith plucked them from his hand, smirking at the small robot keychain. He helped Lance’s into the passenger seat, trying to settle his own feelings as the other boy grimaced. Slipping into the front seat, he experimentally turned the key in the ignition. Blue sputtered to life, a loud growl escaping the engine as Keith tested the pedals. Lance huffed out a laugh.

“She likes me better.”

Keith gently pulled out of the venue, following Lance’s instructions to his house. After a few minutes of silence, Keith couldn’t keep the words down anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what really happened?”

Lance was silent, staring stubbornly out of the window as he clutched his side.

“Me and Nyma used to date, did you know that?” he said after a moment.

It wasn’t the answer Keith wanted. In fact, Keith didn’t really want to know about Lance’s exes at all, but his bit his tongue and let the other boy continue.

“She was one of the reasons I got into racing, actually. She helped me build Blue. It kinda figures that she had something to do with what went down at the race.”

The bitterness in Lance’s tone tugged at Keith’s heart, and found he desperately wanted to say something to comfort him, but no words came to mind.

“We used to raise the stakes and gamble big. That was before she started getting into some shady stuff. Fixing races, sabotaging vehicles,” Lance continued. “I hated it. It’s not fair to gamble like that. It’s not right to endanger people’s lives over money.”

Keith’s grip tightened on the wheel. So the Galra were behind this. Keith felt pure anger course through his veins, and he bared his teeth in a snarl. Lance didn’t notice.

“That’s one of the reasons we broke up. I never thought she’d…” Lance cut himself off.

Keith didn’t push the subject. If _Lance_ wasn’t talking, then there was obviously a big reason.

“Here!” Lance pointed to a turning just outside the city.

Keith turned the car onto a long bumpy dirt track, eventually pulling into a rickety wood garage outside a weathered old homestead. He got out the driver’s side before helping Lance out of his seat, locking the car behind them. Lance awkwardly unlocked the front door with his free hand, directing Keith up to his room. Keith took in his surroundings with mild curiosity in the dim light: The floors were mostly wood, some painted and flaking. The walls were plastered with photos and bookshelves, piled high on top of one another. There were some photos of Lance as a child, surrounded by several other people, most likely his family, smiling widely with missing teeth and dishevelled hair. Keith’s heart warmed at the size of Lance’s family. No wonder he was such a talker. Lance’s room was at the end of the hall, and Keith opened the door with a little difficulty as he supported the other boy’s weight.

The room was a lot tidier than he expected. Lance’s books were arranged neatly, and apparently in alphabetical order according to author. There were barely any clothes out of their draws, only a pair of jeans and one or two tops slung over the back of a desk chair. Keith manoeuvred Lance gently onto his bed, settling down in front of the other boy to check his face for signs of distress.

“Text Pidge and Hunk,” Lance murmured. “Let them know I’m okay.”

Keith complied, pulling Lance’s phone out of his pocket and shooting Pidge and Hunk a short text letting them know that he’d found Lance and taken him home.

When he was done, he turned to watch Lance hunching over at the edge of his bed, trying to steady his breathing. Walking forward, he crouched down in front of the other boy so that he couldn’t avert his gaze.

“I need to take a look at those,” he said softly, gesturing to where Lance was clutching his ribs.

Lance frowned, but nodded. Keith reached forward, fingertips sliding slowly under the hem of Lance’s shirt. Lance shuddered as Keith gently tugged his shirt up over his abdomen, pausing to reach behind his back and pull the collar over his head. Lance winced as he lifted his arms to allow the shirt off, and Keith inhaled sharply as the other boy’s whole torso came into view.

It wasn’t that Lance wasn’t beautiful, he was. Lines of lean muscle carved clear structure to his body under rich brown skin, and under different circumstances Keith could imagine running his hands over the hard abdominals of Lance’s stomach. But as it was, Keith gasped for a different reason: The angry red colour of Lance’s ribs suggested the beginning of a bruise about to form, and the stiff posture with which Lance sat showed how he braced his weight to avoid slouching into his side. Keith peered at the swollen flesh, grazing his fingertips ever so lightly over Lance’s ribs, pausing as the other boy’s breathing hitched.

“You’ll need to put ice on this,” Keith breathed, gently pushing at the flesh to check for any other serious injury.

Lance nodded.

“In the kitchen,” he responded quietly.

Keith padded down to the kitchen, grabbing an ice pack out of the freezer. He stopped as he passed the bathroom, grabbing a couple of Asparin and a glass of water. He handed them to Lance, trying not to stare as the other boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. Crouching in front on Lance, Keith fidgeted nervously with the ice pack in his hands.

“I’m going to put this on your side, okay?” Keith said softly.

He waited for Lance to nod his consent before pressing the cold slab against Lance’s tender side. Lance sucked in a breath, his face contorting with pain, and Keith couldn’t help but grimace himself. The tips of his fingers skimmed the other boy’s tan flesh, and Lance gasped again.

“Whoever did this was clever. They avoided your face,” Keith remarked.

He watched Lance’s face carefully for a reaction, but it was hard to tell through the taller boy’s pained expression.

“I told you,” Lance insisted. “I fell.”

In this position, seated between Lance’s bent knees, Keith’s mind couldn’t help but drift. Making sure his bangs felt over his face slightly, Keith allowed his eyes to wander.

Lance wasn’t overflowing with muscle, but the soft definition surrounding his muscles clearly suggested some power behind his lean frame. Keith’s eyes followed the planes of the other boy’s physique, sweeping over the sharp jut of his collarbone down over his abdomen to the curve of his hips. Keith could imagine running the palms of his hands over Lance’s sides, how soft and warm his golden brown skin would feel under the palms of his hands as he traced over the lines of his stomach, down to the dimples of his lower back. He imagined ducking his fingers under the waistband of Lance’s jeans as his lips ran over the soft flesh of Lance’s neck.

Keith risked a glance upwards. With the taller boy’s knees in his periphery, it was easy for his mind to drift to how Lance would look, red-faced and breathless as Keith knelt between his legs and-

“Don’t tell them.”

The rawness of Lance’s voice interrupted Keith’s train of thought. He suddenly felt as if he’d been doing something wholly inappropriate. Lance was injured, he told himself sternly. Now was NOT the time to be thinking such lewd things.

“Don’t tell the others about this. If they notice something is wrong, just tell them I got hurt at the shop.”

Keith stared at Lance, his grip around the ice pack tightening.

“Why?”

Keith wanted to know what was happening. He wanted to shake the answer out of Lance so that he could make it all go away. But Lance didn’t want to tell him, and whilst that wasn’t fine, Keith firmly reminded himself it wasn’t his place to demand.

“I don’t want them to worry,” Lance whispered in a cracked voice.

Keith felt a wealth of emotion bubble up inside him, and he spoke before he could stop himself.

“What about me?”

Lance’s eyes shot up to his, widening fractionally in surprise. Keith pushed on; the words already out in the open.

“What about worrying me?”

Lance’s lips parted as he stared open mouthed at Keith. Keith held his gaze, his face a mask as Lance studied him.

The taller male’s hand moved from where it was gripping the edge of the bed, coming up between them. For a split second, Keith thought that Lance was going to hold his face when the other boy placed his hand gently on his shoulder.

“You’re a good guy, Keith.”

Keith snorted softly, a wry smile breaking his mask.

“Is this your way of saying you don’t hate me?”

Lance smiled faintly as his eyes drifted closed with fatigue. He breathed so softly that Keith had to strain to hear him.

“I never hated you.”

Keith’s heart stuttered, unsure if he’d heard the words properly. Lance leaned forward, his body growing heavy with the weight of exhaustion and the numb pain in his side, until his head rested on Keith’s shoulder. The two stayed like that for a minute, Lance’s breath hot on Keith’s neck. Keith was sure the other boy could feel how hot his skin was, could see him glowing like a traffic cone in the dark. But if Lance did, he didn’t say anything. When he breathing began to deepen, Keith finally took action.

“Let’s get you into bed,” he mumbled, gently pulling away so that Lance would lift his head.

“And you didn’t even buy me dinner first,” Lance admonished.

Keith chuckled, delicately arranging Lance under the duvet so that he could hold the ice pack himself.

“Alright Ladies Man, if you promise to get better then I’ll _let_ you buy me dinner,” he reasoned.

“I’m a man’s man, too,” Lance pouted. “And maybe I _will!_ ”

Keith tried to cover his blush with an awkward cough.

“Are you seriously turning this into a competition?”

“You’re just jealous of my mad flirting skills,” Lance mumbled as Keith pulled the duvet up to his chin.

Keith quirked an eyebrow.

“Oh, so you’re flirting with me?”

“You wish,” Lance breathed.

Keith remained silent for a second, frowning at sleepy boy lying next to him. He sighed as he shook his head, bangs falling into his eyes.

“I can’t work you out,” Keith whispered, more to himself than Lance.

Lance’s reply was almost inaudible, and Keith wasn’t sure how coherent he was. It was possible he was slipping so far into sleep that he already believed he was dreaming.

“Me, I’m an open book. I like dark-haired boys with stupid mullets and pretty eyes.”

Keith’s head snapped sideways to look at Lance, fresh heat colouring his cheeks. Lance was already asleep.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my ass is dusty for comments and critiques


	8. Did we step on your moment?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tons of fluff. Lance's family make an appearance, and so does Keith's... friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna start by saying thank you SO MUCH for all the lovely comments! Especially those of you who left big long ones, they're seriously like my life blood and basically half the reason I'm still writing this.
> 
> Secondly, I'm gonna slow down on plot a little for the next 1-2 chapters because I know y'all are here for the smooching n stuff and that's gonna be coming VERY SOON so buckle up here we go son
> 
> Also, I forgot to post it last time but Pidge's scooter: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/44/2d/79/442d798494714b229bb471b092ffb11c.jpg
> 
> Lastly, I dunno if you can tell but I speak approximately ten Spanish. Yep, ten whole Spanish. That's it. Ten words.  
> So if you have any corrections please just hit me god knows I need them.

“Do you think he’s dead?”

“ _Obviously_ he’s not dead, estúpido. He’s sleeping.”

“M’just sayin’. He _looks_ dead. He’s super pale”

The voices drifted in and out as Keith slowly gained consciousness. Flashes of sunlight that broke across the room gave the backs of his eyes a red glow, and he groggily blinked them open.

“He’s waking up!”

“I _told_ you he wasn’t dead!”

Keith scrunched his face up against the bright light that assaulted him, raising one hand to rub away the sleep dust at the corner of his eyes. When he pulled his fist back, he was immediately confronted by a pair of bright pale blue eyes, curiously wide and about a centimeter away from his own.

“Are you Lance’s boyfriend?”

_“AH!”_

Keith jumped backwards in shock. The action sent him scooting halfway back across the bed and, unfortunately, into Lance. The other boy groaned loudly in protest from under the mound of duvet that covered him. Shrill delighted shrieks pierced the calm of the morning like a road spike through a balloon, and Keith suddenly found himself being crushed under the weight of three small children as the scrambled to clamber over him onto the bed.

“Lance! _LANCE!”_

“Hey! I was here first!”

  
“You’re _always_ here first, Louisa! You have no sense of privacy!”

Lance groaned again, louder, and he pulled the duvet protectively over his head. Not that it did him any good, as the onslaught of small grabbing hands wrested the cover away from him. He winced slightly as a stray foot caught him in the side, but covered it by turning his head into the pillow.

“Lance, is this your boyfriend?”

“Lance, mum wants you to make breakfast!”

“Lance, I caught a frog! His name is Jason Funderberker, do you wanna see him? Lance? LAAAAAAAANCE!”

Keith let out a loud _“OOOF”_ as one of the kids kneed him in the stomach in an attempt to get closer to Lance. The noise snapped the other boy out of his slumber, his eyes shooting open in concern.

“Okay, enough!” he said loudly, and all three children fell silent. "¡Vete! ¡Es demasiado temprano!"

Now that he’d effectively been kicked awake, Keith sat up to get a better view of what was going on.

The children, whom Keith guessed to be Lance’s younger siblings, all looked like the taller boy (and they all shared his level of volume it seemed). The youngest girl couldn’t have been more than 6, her messy dark hair framing her chubby cheeks, and she grinned with a lot of gaps in her smile. The middle boy was most likely nearer ten, and his sandy blonde hair paired with his dusty brown eyes made him look like a sepia photo. The eldest of the three was a girl who looked around twelve, dark brown curls that verged on black spilling over her shoulders as she squirmed to climb on top of her brother.

She narrowed her eyes at Keith, judgment flooding through her stare as she swept her gaze over him.

“A mamá no le va a gustar esto. Un desconocido en tu cama.,” she said to Lance as she shot Keith another haughty glance.

Lance gaped at her, a red tinge dusting his cheeks.

“LOUISA!  _¡Fuera!_ It’s not like that!” he shouted in embarrassment.

He punctuated the phrase by giving the girl a hard shove, sending her sprawling over the side of the bed, and by effect, over Keith’s legs. She let out an indignant noise before shooting her brother a glare and pulling herself inelegantly the rest of the way onto the floor.

“¡Fuera, fuera, fuera, fuera! ¡Sal de aquí! ¡Ahora!” Lance yelled as he made shooing motions with his hands.

Louisa gathered up the smallest girl in her arms, pulling her off the bed as she whined, and the three of them took of out the room. Keith could hear their wicked laughter all the way down the landing.

Lance looked so affronted that Keith couldn’t help but chuckle. The tan boy pouted at him, grabbing the edge of the duvet and moving to pull it back over his head as he growled something that sounded a lot like _“siblings”._

“Ah ah! No! We’ve gotta have a look at your ribs,” Keith said quickly.

He snatched the duvet before it absorbed Lance, pulling it away from him the other boy’s body as he winged.

“You just wanna ogle my hot bod,” he groused, curling into a ball in lieu of the missing covers.

“Sure, if it means I get to check up on you,” Keith said with a huff.

Lance peeked over his shoulder, a wary look in his eye. Keith rolled his eyes.

“I promise I’ll be gentle,” he said mockingly.

“I bet you say that to all that guys,” Lance grumbled in response.

Nonetheless, he sat up awkwardly, shifting his weight so that he could sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his arms. He was still topless from the night before, so when Keith came to kneel in front of him again it made it easier to sit up on his heels and get a better view of Lance ribs.

As he’d suspected, the angry red blotches had darkened to a deep patchwork of purples and blues. There weren’t many of them, but the bruises that had surfaced had very clear points of impact, and Keith could tell that they had been made deliberately. He risked a peek up at Lance to see the taller boy avoiding his gaze.

Keith sighed, a sense of agitation rippling under his skin. If Lance didn’t want to tell him what had happened, then Keith wasn’t going to push him. Not right now, anyway.

“These will need more ice,” he surmised after a few minutes of inspection. “But they shouldn’t take more than a week to heal.”

Lance nodded soberly, once hand coming up to rub his bruised ribs absently.

“Thanks, Keith,” he said a little hoarsely.

“Look,” Keith began, and Lance’s shoulder sagged a little at the change in his tone. “I’m not going to force you to tell me what’s going on. But… I’d like to think we could trust each other.”

Lance fixed him with a look, his expression indecipherable.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you…” he said slowly.

Lance didn’t finish his sentence, but Keith could hear the unspoken “but” hanging in the air like smog, heavy and obscuring.

Albeit slightly disappointed, Keith decided to change the subject. The last thing he wanted to do was start arguing. Looking around the room, he was able to take in more of the décor than he had the night before.

The morning sunlight bathed the walls in a golden yellow, highlighting the red and orange hues of the walls. Or what little of them Keith could see, anyway. It seemed the almost every square inch of the room had been plastered in photographs: Lance with his family, covered in sand whilst standing under a row of palms. Lance, Pidge, and Hunk all giving each other rabbit ears as they held beers high in their hands. Allura on Shiro’s back as the two of them laughed. Lance and Hunk shooting finger guns at the camera whist sporting twin pairs of dark sunglasses. Lance and his siblings burying an older man up to the neck in white sand as his mother beamed in the distance. There was even one of Lance and Nyma sitting on Blue’s hood, his arm securely around her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss his cheek.

Keith felt jealously swirl in his gut at how happy the two of them looked, quickly followed by a keen sting of anger.

Nyma had hurt Lance. _His_ Lance.

In the middle of it all was a large picture of a bright white beach, the rich blue of the ocean contrasting sharply with the white of the shore. It reminded Keith warmly of Lance’s eyes.

“Where is that?” he asked, pointing at the poster.

Lance’s eye followed the direction of his hand, and the smile that lit up his face could have powered half the city.

“Varadero Beach!” he announced proudly. “My favourite place in the world!”

“What’s it like?” Keith enquired.

“Oh man!” Lance’s smile was infectious, and Keith could feel the muscles of his face itching to grin along with him. “It’s the best beach I’ve ever been to! The water’s so clear you can see the fish swim right up to you! And the _babes!_ ”

At this, Lance made a sort of hourglass motion with his hands, palms curving through the air.

“Keith, the babes are _smoking_ hot. The guys, too. They’re all blonde and tanned…”

Keith couldn’t help but smirk.

“I thought you liked dark-haired guys.”

Lance’s smile froze for a second before his expression morphed into one of horror. His mouth dropped open and his eyes went impossibly wide. With a pained groan, he flopped backwards onto the bed, one arm swinging up to cover his face.

“No puedo creer que de verdad haya dicho eso. En voz alta. ¡Mierda! ¡Pensé que era un sueño!” he muttered to himself.

Keith snickered at the red flush creeping up Lance’s throat, thoroughly amused at how flustered he was. That is, until Keith made the mistake of actually _looking_ at Lance.

The sight of the taller boy lying back on the mattress, topless and panting as his knees hung wide over the edge of the bed was all too much for Keith. The dark-haired boy’s mouth suddenly went dry, and he felt his throat constrict as a familiar sense of heat rushed to his crotch.

“U-uhhm…”

Keith’s hands smacked over the tops of his legs, his shoulders hunching as he coughed to clear the tightness in his throat.

“Keith?”

_Oh no._

Keith looked up at the sound of his name and immediately wished he hadn’t. Lance had lifted his arm slightly to look at the other boy. His lidded eyes paired with the huskiness of his voiced did absolutely nothing to help Keith’s situation. Keith hunched over more with a moan, almost folding in half as he tried to control his erratic breathing. He looked at the photos on the walls, at the picture of Lance and Nyma, desperate for something, _anything,_ to distract him from the growing bulge between his legs.

“Hey? Are you okay?” Lance asked worriedly.

He sat up stiffly, reaching over to tug Keith a little by the arm when he suddenly stopped. Lance’s gaze travelled down Keith’s bent form to where his arms where clamped between his thighs, and he let out a small gasp. Keith knew with a horrible sinking feeling that he’d been caught.

“Is that…?” Lance gulped. “Are you-“

“LAAAAANCE!”

An older woman’s voice bellowed up the stairs, causing both Keith and Lance to jump.

“¡DEAYUNO! ¡BAJA AHORA!”

Lance turned to Keith, his face so beet red that Keith was surprised that steam wasn’t coming out of his ears. Not that Keith was doing much better himself. With the interruption of who he presumed to be Lance’s mother, he was no longer struggling with the threat of a boner, and so instead he broke eye contact to grab his jacket off the floor and pull it on.

“Uhhhh, I should um…” Keith fumbled for words.

There’s really no set script for when you almost pop an erection in front of someone.

“Are you gonna stay for breakfast?” Lance interrupted.

Keith stared at him. Now that Lance was no longer glowing like a traffic cone, he was staring at Keith expectantly, waiting for an answer to his question.

“Er, I mean,” Keith rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I don’t wanna impose-“

“Bullshit. Mi madre makes the _best_ huevos you’ve ever tasted. You’re staying for breakfast.”

And with that, Lance pulled himself to his feet. Unfortunately, the action along with his injury sent him careening into Keith with all the finesse of a baby giraffe. Keith stumbled backwards, unprepared for Lance’s weight, until he smacked into the dresser with a grunt. The handle of one of the drawers dug into his back, and he instinctively jolted away from it. The action made him accidentally buck his hips into Lance’s.

Lance made a very strange noise, and when Keith looked up he was surprised to see the taller boy’s nose not a hair’s breadth from his own. Lance’s flush was back with a vengeance, and Keith could feel his own internal temperature rack up several degrees.

“Aaaah…” Lance breathed throatily.

He blinked once, twice, and then pushed himself away from the dresser, taking a large step back.

“AAAAAAAH!” he continued, and slapped his cheeks with his hands.

“I’M SORRY I JUST NEED TO GET A SHIRT OUT THE WARDROBE YEP THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING OVER HERE I DIDN’T MEAN TO INVADE YOUR PERSONAL SPACE OR DO TH-THAT OR-“

“You don’t have to shout,” Keith cut him off.

Lance abruptly shut his mouth, his shoulders rising up to his ears as he chewed his lip and looked away. Keith wanted to slap himself in the face.

God _DAMMIT,_ Lance was adorable.

“Here,” he said, chucking Lance a T-shirt from out of the drawer.

Lance caught it clumsily, pulling it gracelessly over his head.

“Do you want some clean clothes?” he asked Keith.

The dark-haired boy quirked an eyebrow, shooting Lance a merciless smirk.

“Are you trying to ‘ogle my hot bod’?”

Lance scowled.

“Fine. Wear those gross smelly clothes. See if I care what you look like with your tacky gloves and your stupid mullet,” he pouted.

“I thought you liked my stupid mullet?” Keith teased.

“So you admit it’s stupid?”

_“LANCE!”_

The woman’s voice came from downstairs again, practically shaking the house with the volume. Keith suddenly understood where Lance and his siblings got it from.

The two boys made their way down the creaking wooden stairs, their footsteps echoing through the house. Now that Keith could see it in the daylight, he recognized that there was something distinctly shabby about the interior. The house definitely had a lived-in feel, but it was a little more than that – A hole or two in the rugs here and there, a mismatched section of paint on the walls. Even when Lance’s siblings ran past, Keith noticed a variety of patches on their clothing.

Turning the corner into the kitchen, Keith caught sight of Lance’s mother. She wasn’t the tallest woman, at least half a head shorter than Lance, but she wasn’t exactly short either. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes were soft, instantly giving her an extremely caring appearance, and her wild auburn hair hung in ringlets around her shoulders. She bustled about the kitchen with a practiced speed that came from years of cooking, effortlessly navigating her way around the children that ran under her feet. She frowned as she caught sight of the boys entering the kitchen, and her gaze swept over Keith in a way that was eerily similar to how Louisa had looked at him. Turning, she brandished a wooden spoon at her son.

“¿Y quién es él? ¿Otro chico extraño en mi casa? ¡Lance no voy a dejar que te comportes así bajo mi techo!” she said to Lance in a highly disapproving tone.

“Es sólo un amigo, Mamá,” Lance replied tiredly.

He sat down at the large wooden table, kicking the chair next to him out a few inches to indicate that Keith should sit too. Keith didn’t move, too nervous to make a mistake under Lance’s mother’s scrutinizing stare.

“This is Keith. He helped me get Blue home last night.”

“Un buen amigo de hecho, para ayudarte con esa cosa. Let me look at you.”

Keith took a second to realize that the woman was talking to him, but by that time she’d already stepped in front of him and grabbed his face with her hands.

“Uuhhhh…”

The woman pulled Keith’s head side to side as she inspected him. Keith gulped anxiously.

“Mamá, leave him alone!” Lance protested from his seat.

“Bueno. It is nice to meet you, Keith,” the woman said. She pulled her hands away as she stepped back, apparently satisfied with her inspection. “You can call me Maria.”

“Um, it’s nice to meet you,too” Keith responded.

He wasn’t sure what the appropriate response was when someone had just been handling your face.

“Lance! Feed this boy! Está demasiado flaco,” she said, whipping Lance with a tea towel.

Lance yelped, springing to his feet and sauntering over to the frying pan on the stove. Maria shouted again, and the rumble of small feet came clattering over the worn wooden floorboards as Lance’s siblings flocked to the table.

Maria whipped a pile of dishes out of the cupboard, swiftly depositing them at each place at the table, and Louisa following after her with a handful of cutlery. Once the place settings where done, Lance picked the frying pan off the stove, making his way round the table as he doled out a portion for everyone before settling back into his seat next to Keith.

Louisa stared at Keith from her seat opposite him, chewing nonchalantly on a forkful of eggs.

“Are you going to introduce us?” she asked Lance without looking at him.

“Yeah, just as soon as you stop scaring our guest,” Lance bit back.

Louisa raised her eyebrows but looked away from Keith without comment.

“Everyone, this is my friend Keith,” Lance announced with a slight wave of his hand.

Keith shifted, uncomfortable with the amount of eyes on him. What was he supposed to do? Wave? No, that would be super lame. Instead, he smiled shyly at the family staring at him.

“Hi,” he croaked out.

“I’m Louredes!” piped up the smallest girl. “Nice to meetcha!”

She smiled so wide that Keith could see all the baby teeth she was missing, and he couldn’t help but grin back.

“It’s nice to meet y-“

“And I’m Leo!” the boy with sandy hair interrupted, his cheeks bulging with un-swallowed food.

Maria tutted at him, and he shoved another forkful of eggs into his already full mouth. Keith turned to Louisa, expecting her to introduce herself like the others had. Instead, she swept her gaze loftily over him, clucking her tongue.

“And you’ve already had the pleasure of meeting Louisa,” Lance said with a roll of his eyes.

Louisa shot back a comment at Lance in rapid Spanish, leaning across the table to hiss at him.

“ _English!”_ Maria scolded her with a sharp clip around the girl’s ear. “When we have guests here we speak _English,_ Louisa. Don’t be rude!”

Louisa sat back in her seat with a thud, attitude radiating off her in black waves that were almost visible.

“Where’s dad?” Lance asked as he chewed his breakfast thoughtfully.

“He had to work a double shift last night, so he won’t be back for another few hours,” Maria explained. “And your sister is away until next week for work.”

Lance’s brow furrowed, though he didn’t say any more.

“Oh! And remind me to call you brother!” Maria added.

“Why?”

“His payment didn’t come through yesterday as usual, so I thought something might be wrong with-“  
“I’ll call him!” Lance interrupted, sitting bolt upright.

The action made him wince slightly, but Maria didn’t catch it.

“Are you sur-“ Maria began.

“Yep. I can do it. I can definitely call him this morning,” Lance said hurriedly.

Keith noticed the other boy was gripping his fork with white knuckles. He only relaxed when Maria nodded her consent.

“That’s very helpful of you, Lance. You are a good boy, thank you.”

Lance smiled sheepishly, dropping his head to shovel the last of his breakfast into his mouth. Keith frowned at him. What the hell had Lance so jumpy?

Clearing his throat, Keith attempted to make light conversation.

“You have a lovely home,” he commented as he placed his cutlery on his clean plate.

Maria beamed at him.

“That is very kind, Keith, thank you. I am so sorry for the mess,” she flustered. “I would love to decorate! If I had the… Time.”

She looked away briefly, and Keith noted a strange sort of silence settle over the table. It didn’t last long as Maria cracked another megawatt smile.

“Perhaps you can help, hm? Get Lance to sell that car of his.”

 _“Mamá!”_ Lance gasped, offended. Though, there was a weariness to his tone that made Keith suspect this was an old argument.

Maria tutted, shaking her head at her son.

“You do not need such a car, Lance. You can get a bigger car, more seats. Much better for the family!”

Lance stayed silent, his eyes trained very carefully on his plate. He idly pushed the a few scraps of egg around with his fork as his head dipped, and Keith got the distinct impression that he was trying to make himself as small as possible. This was clearly not a conversation he wanted to be having.

Lance stood up abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor.

“Everyone done?” he asked loudly, not waiting for an answer before he started collecting everyone’s empty plates.

Maria sighed, getting up from the table herself.

“Louisa, you wash up.”  
“What?!” Louisa shrieked indignantly. “It’s Lance’s turn!”

“You were rude to Lance’s guest so you can wash his plate,” Maria said shortly.

Her tone made it clear that the subject was not up for debate, and so Louisa protested in the only way she could: By doing the washing as heavy-handedly and as possible, making sure to shoot daggers at Lance and Keith every few seconds.

“Ignore her,” Lance said, as he started back upstairs.

Keith followed, casting a final glance over his shoulder. Louisa stuck her tongue out at him. Once they were back in the bedroom, Lance threw himself into the desk chair. His momentum caused the chair to spin, and he leant his head back with his eyes closed. Keith suddenly had an idea, and grabbed the back of the chair as it turned his way, stopping it so that Lance was facing the desk with Keith standing behind him.

Lance tipped his head back further, opening his eyes to look at the other boy.

“What?” he grunted.

“If you’re going to be getting into fights,” Keith began.

_“I’m not g-_

Keith slapped his hand over Lance’s mouth to silence him, ignoring how wide the other boy’s eyes got.

“If you’re going to be getting into fights,” he tried again. “Then you had at least better learn how to defend yourself.”

Lance stared at him for another second before reaching up, lacing his fingers gently around Keith’s wrist to tug his hand away from his mouth.

“Are you offering to teach me?” he said with a smirk.

“Yes.”

Lance’s smirk dropped immediately, surprise colouring his features.

“Oh,” was all he said. “Soooo…. Where do you wann-“

“We can do it at my place,” Keith interrupted.

There was a beat of silence in which both boys stared at each other, Lance with his head tilted back as Keith bent over him. And then Keith realized what he’d said.

Colour flooded his cheeks, and he habitually shook his head until his hair covered his eyes. Letting go of the chair abruptly, he skipped back a step. The sudden shift pulled Lance off balance, and he fell to the floor with a pained yowl.

“Shit!” Keith cried, lunging forward to help Lance. “Are you alright?”

“Oh yeah, just peachy,” Lance wheezed.

He pulled himself to his knees as Keith grabbed his hand to help. Lance’s grimace broke into a grin as he regained his breath. Keith was still clutching onto him tightly, and Lance’s smile softened as he looked down at their clasped hands. Almost bashfully, the taller boy wove his fingers around Keith’s.

“Hey, Lance! I’m here with Pidge to-“

Hunk kicked Lance’s bedroom door open, his sentence dying on his lips as he registered to the boys holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. With a soft gasp, he breathed, “ _Ooooooooh!”_

“Dammit, Hunk!” Pidge shouted as they wriggled under the big man’s arm. “You stepped on their moment!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Hunk backpedalled, hands fluttering as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I’m just here to pick up Blue!”

Lance yanked his hand unceremoniously out of Keith’s. Jumping to his feet (a little off kilter, mind you), he physically shook himself.

“Shut up, Pidge!” he barked.

“How come Keith’s here anyway?” Pidge questioned. Their eyes roamed over where Lance’s duvet was piled into a mound, taking in the dual indents on his mattress as their face cracked into a demonic smile.

_“Did you stay the night?”_

“STOP!” Lance shouted, his ears threatening to melt with how red they were. “Stopstopstopstopstop! I know what you’re thinking!”

“So are you, like, boyfriend-girlfriend now?” Pidge asked in an exaggerated valley girl accent. For added effect, they twirled a tuft of hair around their finger and popped some imaginary bubblegum.

“NO!” Lance hollered. “No! Nothing like that! Nothing like that at all, Keith and me are _JUST FRIENDS!_ We are exactly how we were before!”

Keith’s heart dropped into his stomach. He turned to Lance slowly, digging his nails into his gloved palms in an attempt to keep his face impassive.

“What?” he asked in a hollow tone.

Lance turned to him, his eyes widening suddenly as if only just realized that Keith was there.

“That’s not- I didn’t mean to say- I mean I _was_ gonna say-“

“Are all train crashes this amusing to watch?” Pidge asked Hunk in a loud whisper.

Hunk shushed them, his hands coming up to cover his mouth slightly. Keith furrowed his eyebrows. Had he been reading Lance’s actions all wrong? Lance looked like he was having an internal crisis, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. His eyes stayed on Keith the whole time. After an uncomfortably long silence, he threw his hands up in the air.

“I’M GONNA HELP HUNK WITH BLUE!” he shrieked, and stormed out of the room, grabbing Hunk’s collar on the way past and dragging his friend with him.

Keith watched him go, shoulders sagging dejectedly. Now that it was just he and Pidge in the room, he really felt like going home and working on something, anything, to take his mind off how he was feeling.

“Uuh so, I think I’m just gonna leave,” Keith said in defeat. “Now that I’ve apparently made a complete ass out of myself.”

He didn’t mean for it to sound quite as bitter as it had, but Pidge looked genuinely surprised and a touch concerned at his melancholy tone.

“Oh my God, _Keith_ ,” they began.

Keith looked up at the sound of his name to see Pidge looking at him with a sort of horrified wonder.

“ _Please_ don’t listen to Lance when he gets like that. He has no idea how to handle strong emotions.”

Keith blinked.

_What?_

He must have looked completely dumfounded because Pidge rolled their eyes so hard they almost disappeared into their skull.

“Lance doesn’t really do touchy-feely stuff very well. I mean, he _is_ touchy-feely but he doesn’t really understand it when it comes to the feely bit, you know?”

Keith blinked in confusion.

“Aaaaah! I’m not explaining this right!” Pidge huffed, scratching their head. “Look. Lance isn’t super in touch with his emotions, so he doesn’t exactly know how to deal with them when they come a-knockin’, do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Kind of?” Keith responded. “What has this got to do with anything?”

Pidge gave him a genuinely pitying look. Clapping a hand on Keith’s shoulder, they pulled him down to their level to lean in close.

“He _likes_ you, Keith.” Pidge declared. “And you definitely like him too. _Don’t argue with me!_ ”

Pidge lifted a finger to silence Keith as he opened his mouth to deny.

“Just tell him how you feel instead of dancing around each other like twelve year olds. It’ll be _so much_ less painful for the rest of us.”

Pidge released their hold on Keith’s shoulder, and he stood up to full height, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

“You really think he likes me?” he asked quietly.

Pidge groaned so loudly Keith felt himself almost fearing for their life.

“Go get ‘im, tiger,” they said simply, and with a cheeky slap to Keith’s backside, the sauntered out the room.

Keith felt like his head was swimming.

Lance liked him. Lance liked _him._

Keith felt his insides grow warm, and he bit his lip to contain a smile that threatened to take over his face. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he followed Pidge down the stairs, not even bothered by the glares the Louisa continued to shoot in his direction. The two made their way outside, Hunk and Lance finishing hooking Blue up to Hunk’s pickup.

“Hey!” Keith shouted, and the two boys looked up.

Lance quickly looked away, blushing, but now that Keith knew about his crush, the avoidance didn’t bother him.

“Can I get a ride back?” he asked Hunk.

“Sure! It’s gonna be a little slow, though, since we’ve got some added weight,” Hunk replied with a nod at Blue.

Lance gasped turning to Blue and running a hand over her roof.

“He didn’t mean that, baby.”

“You’re such a dork, Lance,” Pidge snorted.

“Ssssh, don’t listen to her. Pidge is just jealous of what we have,” Lance continued to croon, rubbing his cheek against Blue’s window.

“Do you two need a minute?” Keith asked with a grin.

Lance shot him a look that quickly dissolved into a shy smile as he straightened up. He made his way over to Keith as Hunk and Pidge climbed into the pick up.

“So ummm…” Lance began nervously, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Thanks again for helping me out yesterday. And for not saying anything about… You know.”

“You’re welcome,” Keith replied.

Over Lance’s shoulder, he could see Hunk and Pidge leaning out of the pickup’s window shooting him thumbs ups and mouthing things like “go for it”. He smiled a little, turning his attention back to Lance.

“My offer still stands,” he continued. “To teach you how to fight.”

Lance looked up at him, chewing his lip, and Keith felt his chest get warm again. Lance really was cute.

“Okay,” he said finally. “So um… Your place?”

“Why don’t we say Friday? Eight o’clock?”

“Sounds good, man,” Lance agreed, and dammit if his smile wasn’t illegal.

Keith saw Pidge and Hunk making encouraging gestures behind Lance’s back, and with a deep breath he said, “It’s a date.”

Lance’s mouth dropped open, and Keith calmly walked passed him to climb into the pickup. Hunk drove slowly down the dirt track, probably a little slower than necessary, but it gave Keith a chance to wave at Lance as they pulled away. Peering in the rearview mirror, Keith saw Lance turn back towards the house, though not before he’d pumped a victory fist in the air. Keith’s heart felt tingly.

Lance was such a dork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yep, lil plot hints going on here if you picked them up (I'm not subtle).
> 
> As for the Spanish (EDIT: Thank you SO MUCH to RedXYami for the proper translations!!)
> 
> ¡Vete! ¡Es demasiado temprano! - Get out! It's too early!
> 
> A mamá no le va a gustar esto. Un desconocido en tu cama. - Mama won't like this. A strange boy in your bed.
> 
> ¡Fuera! - Out!
> 
> ¡Fuera, fuera, fuera, fuera! ¡Sal de aquí! ¡Ahora! - Go go go go! Get out! Now!
> 
> No puedo creer que de verdad haya dicho eso. En voz alta. ¡Mierda! ¡Pensé que era un sueño! - I can't believe I really said that. Out loud. Fuck! I thought it was a dream!
> 
> ¡DEAYUNO! ¡BAJA AHORA! - BREAKFAST! COME DOWNSTAIRS NOW!
> 
> ¿Y quién es él? ¿Otro chico extraño en mi casa? ¡Lance no voy a dejar que te comportes así bajo mi techo! - And who is this? Another strange boy in my house? Lance I won't have you behaving like this under my roof!
> 
> Es sólo un amigo, Mamá - He's just a friend, mama
> 
> Un buen amigo de hecho, para ayudarte con esa cosa - A good friend indeed, to help you with that
> 
> Está demasiado flaco - He is too skinny


	9. Who brings a plant to fight club?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is a fuckin nerd and Keith likes him that way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really short chapter because I'm GRADUATING on Monday \O/ and I won't have enough time to write everything I wanted before then due to work and stuff soooo hopefully this will do for now.

“He called it a _date,_ Hunk! What am I gonna doooooo??”

Lance howled as he flopped onto Hunk’s couch, grabbing a nearby cushion to squash.

“Uh, go on a date with him?” Hunk suggested.

The bigger man was propped up on the counter top, chewing on a slice of pizza from the extra large pepperoni they’d ordered. Since the topic of Keith had come up, Lance hadn’t so much as looked at the food, something that was a cause for great concern.

“But it’s at his _house!_ And we’re gonna be _SPARRING!”_ Lance whined. “What am I supposed to wear? A SUIT?”

Hunk frowned around his slice of pizza.

“I’d say go in sweats, keep it casual. You can take a change of clothes if you need it,” he said before folding the pizza slice in half and biting off at least half of it.

Lance picked up the cushion he was crushing. Burying his face into it, he let out a long muffled scream. Literally just screamed into a pillow for like a solid ten seconds.

What a nerd.

When he finally came up for air, Hunk took him in with a worried expression etched onto his face. Lance really did look worked up. Sighing, he shoved the rest of the pizza slice in his mouth as he wandered over to the couch. Lance slumped into the cushions, agitatedly pulling at a loose thread on his jeans. Hunk came up behind the sofa, propping his elbows on the hard back as he leaned over to look at Lance.

“At least you know one thing,” he said teasingly.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Lance’s pout was audible.

“That he wants to go on a date with you.”

Lance’s eyes got comically wide, and Hunk grinned at the boy’s reaction. Lance was a little slow sometimes, and whilst that was often endearing, Hunk was more than happy to give him a gentle nudge when needed. And boy, was it needed right now. Lance’s had been freaking out about the situation so much that Hunk could feel his own blood pressure rising. And he was pretty mellow about 99% of the time.

Lance’s face suddenly dropped again, and he turned away from Hunk to flop down onto his side, grumbling something the larger boy didn’t quite hear. Hunk sighed, straightening up as he made a beeline for the pizza.

“If you’re so worried, why don’t you just talk to him about it?” he asked mildly.

Lance’s head popped up from the other side of the couch, an extremely disgruntled expression on his face that made him look like an owl that had just been woken up from a nap.

“And say _what?_ ‘Boxers or briefs? Do you like red or white wine?’ Shit! What if he’s a rose kind of guy, Hunk? I can’t deal with a bro-se kind of guy!”

“Okay, firstly, I’m pretty sure you’ve un-ironically used the phrase “bro-se” yourself so, yeah. There’s that. Secondly, I doubt Keith is gonna expect you to take a bottle of wine to his house on your first date… fight… thing,” Hunk responded patiently.

Lance just groaned, his entire body sliding slowly out of view as he collapsed onto the cushions again.

“What is wrong with me?” he said, more to himself than Hunk

He closed his eyes and slapped his cheeks, as if he could physically knock the worry from his head.

“Uh, you’re an ADHD loser with no specified outlet for your repressed human emotions?”

Pidge’s voice came through the doorway, and Lance looked up to realise with abject horror that they’d brought Keith as well.

The dark-haired boy’s eyes zeroed in on where Lance was sprawled across the couch the second he stepped through the doorframe. A secret smile played on his lips that made the taller boy’s face heat up significantly. Lance had never felt so completely lame in his entire life. He needed to _stop_ getting a leg over on Hunk’s couch literally every time Keith came over. Or Keith’s needed to text ahead or something, though Lance thought it would be super weird if he insisted on knowing where Keith was at all times. Maybe something else? Maybe he could get Keith a collar with a bell on it so that he’d hear him before he entered a room-

The thought of Keith wearing a collar sent a hot prickling shudder up Lance’s entire body, and he groaned loudly, dropping his chin onto the cushion. He was weak, okay?

“Case in point,” Pidge remarked, making their way over to the pizza.

They grabbed a slice and started munching on it with gusto, hopping up onto the counter to watch Lance’s with amusement.

“Hope it’s okay that I brought Keith,” they said, not sounding like they cared either way.

Lance didn’t look up, instead raising one hand to muster up a weak thumbs up before dropping his arm heavily back down. Keith chuckled, and god if that wasn’t music to Lance’s ears.

Pidge said something, but Lance with his face in the sofa missed it, the thick cushion muffling the sound. He did hear Keith laugh though, and that got his attention. Lance poked his head up, glaring at Pidge over the back of the sofa.

“You talking shit? I’ll fight you!”

Hunk strolled over and patted Lance lovingly on the head.

“Oh, before I forget,” Pidge said, “Allura told me to tell you that there’s no race on this week.”

Lance sat up on the couch, giving Pidge a thoughtful look.

“That’s good, I guess. I mean Blue is still in the shop.”

“Red, too,” Keith chimed in.

Turning towards the couch, he gave Lance a cheeky smile that bordered on a smirk.

“But I know she’s in good hands.”

Lance felt his face heat up. He was hyper aware of Pidge and Hunk’s presence, watching their interaction like it was a zoo exhibit.

“Ew. Gross. In front of us?” Pidge whispered to Hunk.

Hunk made shushing motions with his hands, and Pidge leaned back sniggering as Lance glowered at them. Keith just smiled good-naturedly, and Lance wanted to lunge across the sofa and wrap his arms around his waist.

_Dammit Sanchez, keep it in your pants!_

“I heard the race this week also got cancelled because of some Galra stuff,” Hunk tacked on.

Keith’s eyes snapped towards Hunk at the same moment the Lance felt his hold body stiffen. This was a dangerous topic.

“Oh for the love of Altea, what is it this time?” Pidge said with a bite to their tone.

Lance didn’t miss the way Keith shifted forward a little to hear better. He suddenly felt extremely protective. He didn’t want Keith anywhere near this mess, he wanted to put the other boy in his Mustang and drive away into the sunset and live happily ever after. Wait, did that imply they’d be together? For that they’d totally have to kiss, right? Oh man, Lance could hardly imagine what it would be like to kiss Keith. To dive deep into those navy eyes as he wove his fingers into Keith’s dark soft hair. Was it soft? It looked soft. Lance bet it was, but he definitely needed to find out-

“Yeah, I think one of their drivers got injured or something? They’re definitely out of commission, whatever it is.”

That broke Lance out of his distracted thoughts. Keith’s attention flickered to him faster than a bullet, and Lance fought every nerve in his body to squirm under that midnight stare. Pidge whistled low and long.

“So one of their playing cards folded, huh?”

Hunk nodded earnestly.

“Yeah, anyway. Allura caught whiff of foul play and cancelled this week out of spite.”

“Good for her.”

Lance looked up to see that it was Keith who had spoken. The dark-haired boy’s eyes never left his own. Lance felt like a bug being examined under a microscope. It wasn’t a comforting feeling.

Thankfully, Lance’s phone buzzed on the countertop at that moment, breaking the stretch of silence. Lance clumsily scrambled over the back of the sofa to answer it.

“Who’s ‘Space Dad’?” Keith asked as his eyes swept over the caller ID.

“Shiro,” Lance replied bluntly as he made a grabbing motion for the phone.

Keith handed it to him, his fingers lingering on Lance’s for the space of a breath before he let go. Lance turned his back so that everyone would miss the flush creeping up his neck.

“Hola Papi,” he said into the receiver.

“Lance, I’ve told you not to call me that,” Shiro’s voice came over the phone.

It sounded tinny, and the bang and clicks of the garage were audible in the background.

“What’s up?” Lance continued as if Shiro hadn’t spoken.

“Just letting you know that we’re almost finished with Red and Blue. They should both be out in the next couple of days,” Shiro explained.

Lance’s heart jumped a little at the words “red and blue”.

_Dios get it together._

“That’s great!” he replied.

Turning back towards the others, he saw Keith mouthing at Pidge, “Space dad?”

“Shiro’s a huge space nerd,” Pidge whispered back.

Keith didn’t seem to understand, but God was he cute when he looked confused. Lance bit his lip to keep the sentiment from spilling out of his mouth, and he pressed the receiver harder against his ear.

“Can you tell Keith for me?” Shiro asked.

“Don’t you have his number?” Lance queried.

“He’s there with you, right?”

That stopped Lance in his tracks. He spluttered as he searched for words, attracting concerned glances from his friends.

“What makes you think that?!” he finally settled on, trying to cover the embarrassment in his tone with indignation.

“Oh, sorry. I just assumed,” Shiro immediately backtracked. “Do you know when you’ll next see him?”

_“… Yeah,” Lance mumbled. “I’m, uh, sort of with him right now.”_

Lance could _hear_ Shiro’s smirk.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, and Shiro chuckled.

Not that Lance could really hold it against him. That was a gift that Shiro had: You could never really be mad at him because he never did anything with malicious intention. It was probably one of the reasons Allura fell in love with him, and why people naturally seemed to gravitate towards him.

“I trust you to pass on the message,” Shiro said finally. “Oh, and Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“Good luck on your date.”

Shiro hung up without another word, leaving Lance flustered and scarlet faced and he balked at the phone.

“What was that about?” Hunk questioned around a mouthful of pizza.

“He said that Keith’s car is almost done,” Lance replied, looking at Keith. “She’ll be ready in a few days.”

“”Is that why you’re all hot and bothered?” Pidge piped up. “The thought of a Camaro really revving your engine?”

“What kind of man do you think I am?” Lance said aghast. “I could never cheat on Blue!”

Pidge just rolled their eyes. Keith’s smile was back, and Lance felt a gratifying flush in his stomach at the knowledge that _he’d_ been the one to put it there.

“I can’t stay long,” Keith said suddenly, and Lance’s grin vanished. “I’ve got some errands to run before Friday.”

“Oh,” was all Lance managed to say.

Pidge and Hunk were looking at him with genuine pity, at it dawned on him how he must look. Not that he could really help it. Whenever Keith was around, he suddenly seemed to become a pile of goo and there was nothing he could do to control it.

“Okay man, text us if you need a hand with anything,” Hunk responded smoothly, glossing over Lance’s reaction.

Keith gave him a grateful nod, pushing away from the counter as he moved to leave. Before he got to the door, however, he stopped in front of Lance.

“We still good for Friday?”

Lance dared a glance up at him, and promptly felt all the air disappear from his lungs. Keith was looking at him with such hope and happiness, his navy eyes glittering from behind his bangs, and he bit his lip in a way that was (dare he even say it) almost _shy._ Lance had made Keith feel SHY.

The thought practically gave him wings. No seriously, Lance thought he was floating at least a foot off the ground before he realised Keith was waiting for a response. The joyous little glimmer in his eye was fading quicker the longer Lance took to respond, and Lance wasn't having that.

 _“YES!”_ Lance screamed in his face. Clearing his throat in embarrassment, he tried again.

“I mean yes. I mean-yeah. Yes. If you still want-“

“I do,” Keith cut him off.

_[“You may know kiss the-“]_

_[“Pidge shhh!”]_

Lance didn’t even need to look at Pidge to know that they were rolling their eyes.

He didn’t care. Keith was smiling at him like he’d just announced that Santa was real after all, and Lance took a moment to memorise every line of that smile. He’d probably tattoo it onto his brain if that were even possible.

“Great,” he breathed.

“See you then,” Keith said, flashing another smile.

And with that, he left the house. The slam of the front door wasn’t loud enough to drown out Pidge’s exasperated shout of, “Oh my fucking GOD!”

 

* * *

 

Lance had been stood outside Keith’s apartment for almost 10 minutes. It wasn’t creepy, he told himself, he was just early. And nervous. And so incredibly unprepared for this. In his hands, he toyed with the small potted plant Hunk had helped him pick out, the leaves ruffling gently as he paced back and forth.

_Just press the fucking bell._

With a growl of frustration, Lance turned around and stormed over to the doorbell, jamming it with enough force to almost break it. There was a beat, and then Lance panicked. Keith was going to answer the door. Keith was going to answer the door and see him standing there with a super lame plant that suddenly seemed completely wrong for the occasion. I mean, who brings a plant to a sparring session?

_Shit._

Lance had to get rid of it, and fast. He turned around, lifting his arm above his head ready to lob the plant when the front door opened. Lance swung his arm as he turned, bringing the plant neatly to a halt in front of his chest.

“HI!”

“Uh, hi.”

Keith’s eyes travelled down from Lance’s face to where the plant was being clutched against his chest.

“Is that for me?”

“What? NO!”

Keith just blinked.

“I mean, yes? Sorry, I just- I was gonna bring wine but then I thought it would be weird to bring wine to a fight class and then I got confused because you said it was a date but beer didn’t seem like the kind of thing that you’d bring to a date and I didn’t want you to think that was how thought of you - I mean I’m _do_ think of you like that, like a friend I mean- Shit! I mean. Yeah, like a friend, but also not like a friend?”

Keith just watched Lance curiously, a whisper of a smile feathering his lips.

“And YEAH! So like, I’m just rambling now? And I mean, anytime time you wanna cut me off is just fine by me. Seriously. Just go ahead and cut me right off. Aaaanytime. Like _anytime now_ would be good.”

Lance finished somewhat breathlessly, dropping his head like a kicked puppy and peeking anxiously up at Keith through his lashes.

Keith broke out into a smile, and he giggled. Keith fucking _giggled._

“Okay, hotshot. How about you come inside and stop strangling my plant?” he suggested with a wink as he held open the door. That cheeky bastard.

Lance looked down to where his fingers laced around the plant pot in a death grip, and promptly loosened them so fast he almost dropped the whole thing.

With a deep breath and a small jerk, he stepped across the threshold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ho boy am I excited to write the next chapter ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	10. Lance. Lance brings a plant to fight club.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is ticklish, Keith has to obligatory "I'm an orphan" talk, and Shiro don't treat his woman right enough but he tries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is a late update (????) But I graduated!!! And I've been super busy with work so YA KNOW
> 
> Also I wrote this at like 2am so if there's any spelling mistakes then I'm sO RRY

To say the least, Keith’s place was _nice._ It looked liked a Minimalist Design showroom, everything done up in grey and white. There was hardly any clutter either, besides a few notes scattered over the coffee table, and Lance found himself extremely envious of the posh interior. There were a few photos lining the mantlepiece, but Lance didn’t have time to stop and look at them. He made a mental note to have a good old nose around later.

Lance followed Keith silently through the open plan kitchen into the living area and down the hallway.

“Uuuh, do you mind me asking where we’re going?” he asked sceptically.

His fingers were still wrapped around the plant pot, and he squeezed it a little to reassure himself. Why had he brought a fucking plant? Oh yeah. Because he was a loser.

Keith threw a smirk over his shoulder as he replied.

“To put the plant away,” he said mysteriously.

Turning back around he added, “and to my gym.”

Lance jaw dropped.

“Holy shit! You have a _gym?_ ”

“It’s more of a training room than anything,” Keith explained as he reached a doorway.

Pushing it open, he flicked on the lights and Lance was gifted with a full view of the room.

It wasn’t especially huge for a makeshift gym. Nonetheless, there was a stack of free weights in the corner along with a few exercise machines and a boxing bag. The majority of the floor was covered in squishy black mats, and Lance poked the edge of one gingerly with his toe. He gulped, not missing the way Keith held up one hand to supress a chuckle.

“Soooooo, the plant?” Lance asked, hoping to deflect the imminent ass-kicking he was sure he was about to receive.

He lifted the small pot, and Keith plucked it from his open hands. Their fingers brushed slightly, and Lance jolted. Fuck, he was gonna have to get his shit together. If he couldn’t handle touching Keith’s _hand,_ there was no way he was gonna survive a sparring session with him.

Lance watched as Keith made his way over to a small windowsill off to the side. There were already a few small plants lined along its surface, like soldiers stood to attention, and Lance suddenly felt like his gift was insignificant.

“How did you know I liked these?” Keith asked, surprising him.

Lance felt his face heat up a little, and he self-consciously stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“I just had a feeling.”

Keith’s smile was dazzling, and Lance found himself blinking stupidly. Screw surviving, Keith was going to fucking _melt_ him.

“Thanks,” Keith said.

The genuine happiness in his tone almost made Lance choke. He unsubtly disguised it with a cough, turning his head away as his ears turned pink.

“Take your jacket off,” Keith said suddenly.

Lance squeaked.

“What?!”

Keith was shucking off his socks, and he turned to quirk an eyebrow at Lance.

“You don’t really wanna spar in it, do you?”

“Oh.” Trust Lance to jump to the wrong fucking conclusion. “No, I guess not.”

His bruises had healed entirely over the past week, though there was still a little stiffness in his side. Hopefully Keith would go easy on him.

Lance had just chucked his jacket on the floor and turned round when he spotted Keith and _oh boy._ He was not ready for that.

Keith had taken off his sweater, clad now only in loose track pants and a black tank top. The straps hung lovingly to the juncture between his traps and his shoulders, drawing Lance’s eyes always the way down the curving muscles of his arms, along his wrist and across to where his waist band was slung low on his hips. Even through the top, Lance could see the ‘V’ of Keith’s muscles making a nice arrow pointing right to his-

“Lance?”

“YES!”

Lance screeched as he jumped out of his daydream, arms snapping into his sides. Keith just raised his eyebrows.

“Are you ready?”

Lance scoffed.

“I was _born_ ready, baby. I’m totally gonna-“

Keith sighed impatiently, and reached out to grab Lance’s hand. Lance let Keith pull him onto the black mats, fighting to ignore how the other boy’s navy eyes sparkled with focus.

“Okay, first things first,” Keith announced.

Lance leapt to attention, leaning forward to listen.

“Basic fighting stance. Keep your feet apart, and your body weight _low,_ ” Keith instructed.

He moved into the stance he’d described, and Lance did his best to mimic him.

“Arms up,” Keith said, and Lance obeyed.

“Keep the stance,” Keith commanded.

Lance watched warily and Keith walked around him, scrutinising his posture. He disappeared out of Lance’s periphery, and the brown-haired boy began to feel slightly uneasy when he didn’t reappear on the other side of him.

“Tuck your elbows in more, and get your weight lower. The lower your centre of gravity, the harder you’ll be to knock down,” Keith explained from behind him.

Lance did his best to follow instructions, dropping his weight and tucking his elbows in.

“Not quite,” Keith said.

Lance shifted again, his legs feeling awkwardly out of place.

“No,” came Keith’s voice again.

Only this time, it was a lot closer. Lance thought he might be imagining Keith’s breath on the back of his neck, until the other boy reached round, lightly circling Lance’s wrists with his fingers.

“Like this,” he murmured, almost directly into Lance’s ear.

The taller boy shuddered at the warm breath ghosting his skin. He let Keith maneuverer his arms into the correct position. Keith pressed his chest into Lance’s back, pushing his body down.

“Lower, like this,” Keith murmured again, and Lance thought his heart would beat right out of his chest.

Was Keith doing this on purpose? Because if so that wasn’t fair. Lance almost yelped when Keith kicked his feet further apart, but the noise got caught in his throat and came out as a small huff instead. He felt rather than heard Keith laugh, his chest shaking slightly against Lance’s back. That fucker. He was DEFINITELY doing this on purpose.

Abruptly, Keith pulled away, walking back round to Lance’s front.

“Good,” he said with a nod.

Taking his own stance, Keith lifted his fists. Lance’s mouth went dry because Keith looked amazing with his brow furrowed, a hint of a smile teasing his lips and Lance was pretty sure he was about to get his ass handed to him but he found he didn’t really care because _holy shit that should not be so fucking hot._

Keith took Lance through the basics: Throwing a punch without breaking your thumb, basic blocks, feints, how to get out of a chokehold, etc.

“So how big is your family?” Keith asked as he ducked to avoid one of Lance’s punches.

“Big,” Lance grunted, narrowly avoiding a kick from Keith. “I have two older siblings, and three younger. Plus my older brother has a kid on the way, my older sister already has two sprogs, and my dad has, like, four brothers. NGGG!”

Keith swiped Lance’s legs out from under him.

“Focus,” he said by way of critique, offering Lance a hand up.

Lance took it grudgingly.

“You were distracting me,” he said indignantly.

“You have to be able to focus on more than one thing.”

Lance grumbled.

“If this is how you seduce all your guys then no wonder you’re single.”

“Who said anything about seducing?” Keith asked, a wicked smile playing on his features.

Lance’s jaw snapped shut and he averted his eyes, colour creeping into his face.

“Again,” Keith commanded.

The pair took up their fighting stances and began sparring again.

“What about you?” Lance asked. ”What’s your family like?”

“I don’t have a family,” Keith said bluntly.

“What?!”

Lance was so agape that he completely dropped his stance, and Keith kicked him square in the gut. The taller boy let out a loud _OOF_ before tumbling back on the mats. Rubbing his head, he looked up to see Keith holding his hand out to him.

“No one?” Lance asked in horror.

Keith just shook his head.

“I have a great aunt in Korea, but we’ve never really talked. She doesn’t speak English, and she’s not to happy about me being half Canadian” Keith explained.

Lance was still staring at him, and Keith felt like an idiot with his hand held awkwardly in the air. He waved it slightly, and Lance’s eyes snapped to the motion. Closing his mouth a fraction, he took the hand that was offered and let Keith pull him to his feet for what felt like the millionth time that evening.

“Can I ask what happened to your parents?” Lance said quietly.

Keith felt his stomach drop. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about it. Keith just hated the pitying look that people gave him. He didn’t want to see that look on Lance’s face.

“They died when I was young,” Keith said with no emotion in his voice. “You don’t have to feel sorry for me. I don’t remember them that well,” he added before Lance could open his mouth.

Lance didn’t know what to say to that. It was clear that Keith didn’t want the conversation to drag on, and so Lance simply took up his fighting stance again, watching as Keith mirrored his action.

The thought of Keith growing up alone settled in a heavy sadness around him, like a great big toad of misery squatting on his heart.

Lance imagined a teenaged Keith with long messy hair and scruffy clothes, bouncing around the foster system without ever really having a place to call home. The image left Lance with an overwhelming urge to help, and he resolved right then and there that he would make sure Keith always had a place to come back to. He could come back to Lance. He could come _home._

Lance was so wrapped up in his sentiment, that he completely missed his block, and Keith’s knuckles smacked him square in the jaw. His head snapped so the side with a resounding _clack_ of his teeth, and Keith gasped.

“Shit! Lance, I’m so sorry!” Keith cried.

Lance rubbed at his sore jaw absently, when Keith pulled his hand away, cupping his face as he stared at the spot he’d punched with a tense sort of urgency in his eyes.

“M’fine,” Lance insisted, waving a hand to bat Keith away.

Keith ignored him, the pad of his thumb coming up to stroke tenderly across the skin of his jaw. Lance’s hands instinctively came up to grasp Keith’s upper arms, and _wow_ okay. Keith could _definitely_ bench press him if he wanted to.

Lance’s breathing hitched, and he risked a glance up at Keith’s eyes. The other boy was studying him closely, his lips slightly parted as his thumbs traced the line of Lance’s cheekbones. Lance could feel his face grow hot under Keith’s hands, and his heart drummed out a staccato rhythm he hoped wasn’t audible. For a second, he thought Keith was going to kiss him, but the other boy suddenly dropped his hands, pulled Lance’s to his feet again.

“You could at least _try_ to pull your punches,” Lance scowled, though there was an underlying smile in his voice.

“I _am_ pulling my punches, loser,” Keith bit back smugly. “It’s not my fault you suck.”

“Woooow,” Lance said sarcastically. “That’s some top notch flirting there, Keith. Really good stuff. A for effort.”

The grin Keith shot him was downright diabolical.

“Well it’s working, isn’t it?”

“That’s-You’re-,” Lance’s words evaporated off his tongue. “ _Shut up.”_

Keith just smirked like the asshole he was before decking Lance again.

“DAMMIT!” Lance seethed.

This time he ignored Keith’s hand, pushing himself angrily to his feet.

“Watch out for dirty tactics,” Keith said. “You never know when-“

_“AAAAAAAH!”_

Keith was caught off guard as Lance launched himself at the dark-haired boy, arms wrapping round his slim waist as Lance tackled him to the mat. The two of them landed in a heap, Lance wriggling to get purchase. He finally sat up on Keith’s lap, triumphant.

“HA!” he shouted. “I finally got you, you mullet-brained-“

Keith promptly flipped Lance onto his back, pinning his wrists above his head as his bodyweight held the other boy down.

“You were saying?”

Lance looked completely shocked, and Keith couldn’t stop the victorious grin from spreading across his face.

“Get _off me!_ ” Lance shrieked, twisting futilely underneath Keith’s weight. “Fucker!”

“Oh you don’t like this?” Keith taunted.

His fingers tightened around Lance’s wrists, and he leaned down a little, watching as the taller boy’s eyes got very _very_ big.

The fingers of his other hand fluttered around Lance’s ribs, and Lance involuntarily hiccupped out a little laugh.

Both boys froze, eyes locked onto one another as the seconds dragged on and the realisation slowly set in. Lance’s eyes got impossibly wider as Keith’s grin got bigger.

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Lance hissed.

That was all the confirmation Keith needed, and the dark-haired boy mercilessly dug his fingers into Lance’s side.

Lance screamed as Keith tickled him, his entire body writhing under Keith’s weight, arms struggling fruitlessly against his grip.

“STOP! KEITH NO-O!” he shrieked, and Keith found himself laughing along.

Lance’s hips bucked into his, and Keith suddenly gasped. His onslaught of tickles stopped immediately, leaving both boys staring at one another.

Lance gulped, and his face settled into something dangerous.

“One day,” he said darkly. “I’m going to get you back.”

Keith felt himself shiver. There was a promise under Lance’s words, but of what he wasn’t sure. Nonetheless, he let go of Lance’s wrists, pulling the other boy to his feet again.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Keith said, slightly breathless.

“Yeah. I think I’m just about done,” Lance agreed, rubbing his jaw again.

He followed Keith into the kitchen where they both grabbed a glass of water.

“I’m gonna have to head off in a bit,” Lance said as he caught sight of the clock.

“With Blue in the shop it’s gonna take me a little longer to get home. And you do NOT want to face the wrath of Mama Sanchez, believe me.”

“I believe you,” Keith replied. “But I can always give you a lift you know?”

“Isn’t Red in the shop?”

“I have other transport.”

Lance gave him a strange look the Keith couldn’t decipher. So instead he changed track.

“Same time tomorrow?”

Lance hesitated for a moment, taking Keith in. After a moment, a small smile made it’s way over his lips.

“Yeah,” he murmured. Then a little louder,” Yeah I’d like that.”

Keith’s heart gave a satisfied _WHUMP_ and he turned away to sip his water as he flushed. Dammit, Lance’s lazy smile should come with a warning sign.

“I’ll walk you out.”

As Keith stood in his doorway, Lance smiled gently at him.

“I, er, had a really good time tonight,” Lance said somewhat sheepishly.

e bit his lip to contain a smile and hell if that wasn’t the cutest thing Keith had ever seen.

“Me too,” Keith responded. “I’m… I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”

“Me too.”

The two boys stared at each other for a moment before Lance, ever discontent with silence, laughed nervously.

“I’ll just… Okay. Yeah. Okay. I’m going. Bye?”

Lance turned to go when Keith reach out to grab his wrist, spinning the taller boy back towards him. Lance bumped into his chest slightly, their noses inches apart. Keith reached up to cup Lance’s face, his eyes flickering between Lance’s sapphire-blue eyes and his slightly parted lips. Lance’s face was extremely red, and Keith could feel the warmth of it under his fingertips. Leaning forward, he watched as Lance’s eyes fluttered closed before tilting his chin up.

This was it. Holy shit, he was going to kiss Lance. He felt the taller boy’s head tilt down fractionally, and Keith could feel his warm breath spill across his lips. Their mouths were millimetres apart when Lance suddenly groaned. Keith’s eyes flew open as Lance’s cheek brushed past his, and he started when Lance’s forehead hit his shoulder.

“Lance?” Keith said worriedly.

Lance’s hands were still holding his waist lightly, so Keith’s knew he was conscious.

 _“You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now,”_ Lance hissed into his shoulder.

His hands tightened around Keith’s waist, fingers digging into his flesh a little.

“Then why don’t you?”

Lance pulled back, lifting his head and dropping his hands as he took a step away from Keith. Keith missed the contact immediately, cool air flooding the space where Lance had just been.

“Look, Keith. I really like you. I mean, like, really _really_ like you. And believe me there’s nothing I would love more than to smush my face all over yours right now-“

“Gross.”

“But…” Lance trailed off, raising one hand to cover his mouth.

Sighing, he turned to lean back against the wall next to the door. Leaning his head back, Lance closed his eyes, and Keith didn’t think he’d ever seen such a torn expression on the other boy’s face before.

“I’m kinda messed up in some real shit right now, and I don’t want to get you involved in that.”

Keith felt his chest swell. That was so…

_Sweet? Noble? Selfless? Brave?_

Keith didn’t know how to deal with the emotions that mingled in his chest, so naturally he had to poke fun.

“Lance Sanchez? Doing something _noble?”_

Lance’s eyes opened, and he brought his head forward to look at Keith, a wry smile on his face.

“I mean it Keith. I don’t want you to have to deal with the mess I’m in.”

“You mean how you’re in the Galra’s pocket?”

Lance’s whole body jerked forward at that. He stood in a stance that was strangely similar to the once Keith had just taught him, and Keith didn’t know if he was about to shout or bolt.

“I’m not an idiot, Lancce,” Keith forged ahead, regardless. “I know you’re in league with them, whether you want to be or not.”

“Not,” said Lance without missing a beat.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Keith implored. “Maybe I can help.”

Lance’s internal conflict warred across his face. Keith could practically see him tallying up the pros and cons of the situation, and he opened his mouth to speak when the cheerful tune of Marimba came jingling out of his pocket.

Lance pulled out his phone, the name “Space Dad” flashing up on screen briefly before he hit answer and pressed the device to his ear.

“Shiro?” he said confused.

Keith watched as Lance’s frown dissolved into a wide-toothed grin.

“Uh huh. Thanks, man.”

Lance hung up the phone and turned his elated smile on Keith.

“You wanna see something?”

 

 

Of fucking course Keith had a motorbike.

Lance’s arms wound tightly around the other boy’s waist as his chin slotted over his shoulder. Keith’s arms twitched as he revved the engine, and Lance could feel the slight chill of the wind despite his clothing. He didn’t really mind though. The bike gave him an excuse to cuddle Keith without _seeming_ like he wanted to cuddle Keith.

Keith pulled the bike up outside the garage, and Shiro waved to them from the open grate door.

“Kinda late for you, isn’t it?” Lance asked as he jogged up to him.

“Yeah well, I wanted to get these done before I went home,” Shiro replied with a shrug. “Nice to see you, Keith!” he called, waving as Keith pulled off his helmet.

Keith waved back and set about locking up his bike.

“Can you lock up for me?” Shiro asked Lance.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I’m already late home and Allura’s not gonna be pleased about me missing dinner again,” Shiro said with a guilty look.

“Hey, it’s cool man,” Lance responded.

He clapped a hand onto Shiro’s shoulder.

“You’ve gotta treat Allura right.”

Shiro just smiled before turning towards his car. He stopped suddenly as if he’d had a thought, and turned back to the lanky boy.

“Oh and Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“ _Please_ don’t do anything in the office.”

Lance almost had an aneurism. By the time his brain had rebooted, Shiro had already hopped in the driver’s seat of his car and driven away.

“What was all that about?”

Lance squeaked, whipping round to see Keith stoof his his arms across his chest, frowning at Shiro’s retreat.

“NOTHING!” Lance yelled.

Keith gave him a blank look.

“You know it’s the most conspicuous response when you just yell it, don’t you?” he asked in a flat tone.

Lance ignored him. Setting off into the garage, Lance skipped a few steps ahead of Keith to settle against the lift.

“You ready?” he asked, face alight with glee.

“For what?” Keith asked in confusion.

In response, Lance jabbed the DOWN button on the lift. Keith’s eyes snapped to where Red and Blue slowly began lowering to the floor.

“The cars are done,” Lance said happily.

Keith’s eyes lit up immediately. He moved towards Red, hand outstretched to pat the bumper as the vehicle descended.

Lance snorted.

“Buy the girl a drink first.”

Keith smirked.

“Maybe I’ll just buy you a drink instead,” he rebated, watching with delight as Lance flushed and looked away.

“SO!” the taller boy cried by way of moving on the conversation.

He skipped around the body of the car, running his hand over the shiny new wax job.

“We’ fitted you with a new oval strut brace to help with the corners, as well as new coilovers for suspension. I got Hunk to fix a few wiring bits and bobs, and Pidge helped me upgrade your ECU,” Lance explained.

His eyes swept appreciatively over the Camaro’s form, and he turned a satisfied smile on Keith.

Keith felt his jaw go slack.

“You… Did all that for me?” he managed to get out.

“Sure,” said Lance casually.

He patted the car, pleased.

“I thought, since you helped me with Blue and my ribs and everything. I mean, it was the least I could do. Can’t have you outdoing me now. Since we’re rivals and all.”

Lance punctuated his sentence with a softening of his smile, and that did it for Keith.

Maybe it was the way Lance felt the need to look after everyone but himself, or the way the lights caught the flecks of green in his eyes. Or maybe it was how Lance was so absolutely genuine about his emotions that made Keith reach out to take him gently by the elbow, pulling the taller boy closer to him.

Lance gasped a little in surprise as Keith pulled him to his chest, reaching up a hand to tentatively cup the back on his neck as he leaned forward. He hesitated a moment, giving Lance the chance to pull away. But when the other boy’s eyes slid closed in anticipation, Keith took the invitation that was offered to him.

Slowly, he tilted his chin up, and finally sealed the space between their lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you they were gonna smooch ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Told you
> 
> If you don't think boys tickling each other is the gayest shit ever then I'm sorry but you're wrong. You're so wrong.


	11. Are you embarrassed?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-makeoutzzzzzzz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huuurrrrrrrrrr okay I legit don't even know what I'm writing anymore but huge thank you to bunniesandjellyfishes for the Spanish translations, and also to ltrumbley for beta reading for me. Your help means the world!

Lance was 99.9999% sure his heart had stopped beating.

 

Like, seriously. He was certain he’d died for a second until he felt Keith’s fingers tighten exponentially around his elbow and _oh._

Lance let out a small noise of surprise and Keith’s other hand came up to cup his jaw, holding him steady as he moved his mouth. Lance’s fingers tangled in Keith’s hair and dear God if it wasn’t the softest thing he’d ever felt. Keith’s tongue pushed gently against Lance’s bottom lip, coaxing his mouth open.

There was no rush, no frenzy of hands or fevered touches. The kiss was slow, explorative, and Lance heard himself sigh as Keith’s arm slipped around his waist, pulling their hips together. His eyes fluttered open a crack to spot a lazy smile tugging at the corners of Keith’s mouth in between kisses. That smug asshole.

Keith suddenly bit down on the taller boy’s lower lip. Lance gasped, involuntarily tugging on the dark locks woven in his hand. He thought he might’ve ruined everything for a second, but Keith fucking _moaned_ at the rough action and, really, that was it.

Unable to contain himself, Lance pushed forward, pressing Keith backwards into his Mustang with a buck of his hips, making sure their mouths stayed connected. Keith moaned at the weight of Lance’s body holding him firmly against the side of the car. He ground his hips in an effort to get them impossibly closer, loving the way Lance’s whole body shuddered.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, Keith managed to stutter out a word.

“Blue?”

“She won’t mind,” Lance whispered against Keith’s lips.

Tilting his head forward, Lance leaned it to catch Keith’s mouth again. In a brazen move, he slipped his fingers under the hem of Keith’s shirt, letting his thumb skim the dark-haired boy’s hipbone. Unfortunately, he hadn’t anticipated Keith’s reaction.

Keith jumped at the sudden skin on skin contact just as Lance leaned forward and full on head-butted him.

“Ow!”

“Shit!” Lance promptly leapt away from Keith, his hands snatching away from the other boy’s body and coming up to cover his mouth. “Shit shit shit! I’m so sorry! Fuck! I knew I’d fuck this up!”

“It’s okay,” Keith said, rubbing his forehead.

It really was okay. Aside from the initial surprise, it was only a small bump on the head, and the pain was rapidly fading. Even so, Keith looked up to see Lance staring at him wide-eyed and panicked. He looked as if he’d just stepped on a snail.

Keith’s face cracked into a huge grin.

“You’re so…!”

“What?” Lance demanded, dropping his hands.

The anguish crossing his face clearly illustrated the multitude of negative endings the sentence could have. Keith couldn’t help but giggle.

“I’m so _what_ , Keith????”

Keith stepped forward, sliding his hands around the back of Lance’s neck and leaning forward until their foreheads were touching.

“You’re so… _Cute._ ”

Lance looked offended.

“I’m not _cute!_ ” he pouted. “I’m manly as hell!”

“Uh huh. Muy macho.”

Fuck. Keith talking Spanish was sexy as hell.

“Your accent is horrible,” Lance griped.

“Mm. Maybe you can teach me where to put my tongue?”

_“DUDE!”_

Lance looked as if he wanted to hide under a rock, his shoulders hiking up towards his ears as he tried to disappear in on himself. Keith let out a genuine laugh.

“You can’t just _say_ shit like that!”

“Why not?”

Lance’s hands tapped nervously against his thigh in a way that might have been annoying to anyone else, but Keith just found it endearing.

“ _Because,_ ” Lance reasoned. “It’s _embarrassing!_ ”

Keith pulled back a little to regard the taller boy. He seemed to be looking anywhere but at Keith, the tops of his ears displaying a fresh blush that spread down his neck and across his cheeks.

“Lance.”

Lance chewed his lip, eyes carefully trained on the toolbox to Keith’s right. Keith lifted his thumb to Lance’s mouth, brushing the corner until Lance released his lower lip.

“Lance, look at me,” Keith said softly.

It wasn’t an order. Rather, it was a request, a placid dare for Lance to be brave. Drawing in a shuddering breath, Lance finally raised his eyes to meet Keith’s.

“Are you embarrassed?” Keith asked quietly.

Lance gulped and shook his head.

“Are you nervous?”

“A little.”

Keith felt a small tug of relief that the other boy was being honest with him.

Leaning his face close to Lance’s, he ran his fingers down the other boy’s spine, watching carefully as his stiff posture relaxed under the touch.

“Are you alright?”

Lance peeked up at Keith, watching as concern pooled into his deep grey blue eyes. Hesitantly, he reached out to gently grab at the lapels of Keith’s red jacket.

“…Yeah I’m… I’m fine. I’m _better_ than fine. I’m great,” he mumbled, a blush tinting his cheeks. “You?”

Keith smiled softly at him, keeping their faces close.

“I’m great, too.”

Keith rolled forward to bounce on the balls of his feet, his weight pushing Lance back that final half step until his back bumped gently against the side of Keith’s Camaro. The taller boy’s eyes flittered back to the vehicle for a second.

“Red?” he breathed.

“She’s won’t mind,” Keith murmured in response.

His thumb rubbed soothingly at the velvet patch of skin below Lance’s ear, and the other boy shivered at the sensation before tilting his chin up and closing the gap between their lips.

 

 

“You did _WHAT??”_

Pidge’s hands slammed on the table, startling Hunk who choked on his soda.

_“You kissed Lance??”_

Hunk looked up from his coughing fit to raise his eyebrows at Keith.

“Woah, you finally did it? Good for you dude!”

“NOT good for you,” Pidge seethed. “Why is this only the first time I’m hearing about it?!”

“It happened _yesterday_ ,” Keith pointed out.

He was a little taken aback by the murderous look on Pidge’s face. They looked like they were seriously contemplated throwing their laptop at him; something that Keith did not take lightly considering how attached Pidge was to their technology.

_“EXACTLY!”_ Pidge screeched. “Why in hell didn’t you text me?”

“It was late? Did you expect me to text you right away?”

_“Yes,”_ said Pidge and Hunk in unison, and Keith flushed a little at their enthusiasm.

“I mean, it’s not like we’re gonna be hearing it a thousand times from Lance in the next week or anything. I bet he’s already told Shiro,” Hunk hummed.

Keith snorted until he saw Hunk’s completely straight face.

“Wait, really?” Keith asked.

“I just can’t believe it’s _Lance,_ ” Pidge interrupted. “I mean talk about setting the bar low.”

“That is an insult to both your friend, and to Keith’s taste in men,” Hunk chastised.

Pidge had the decency to actually look a little sheepish.

“Yeah yeah, you know I love him really,” they mumbled, averting their gaze.

Hunk smiled, successfully appeased.

“I just gotta know though,” Pidge rounded on Keith. “What drew you to him? Was it his bean-pole legs? His grating obnoxious laugh? Oooooh! Perhaps it was the sexy way he drools in his sleep?”

Keith paused, mulling over what he liked about Lance.

Honestly, he couldn’t pinpoint a specific trait. Keith liked the way Lance ran his mouth off all the time but yet could be caught in a quiet speculative moment. He liked the way Lance’s face lit up when he smiled, and how his shoulders shook when he laughed, and the way he babbled when he got nervous. He liked that even though Lance complained about them, he would do anything for his loved ones. And Keith _really_ liked how Lance blushed and chewed his lip when he was nervous.

“I like his smile _,_ ” Keith said after a moment.

“That shit-eating grin? The one he pulls after every bad joke, ergo, ALL THE TIME? _That’s_ what does it for you?” Pidge asked incredulously.

Keith worried that if they gaped anymore, their eyes would balk right out of their skull.

“Err, no. More like… When he talks about his family or racing or stuff that he likes, I guess?”

“Oh my GAWD,” Pidge groaned. “Hunk! Hunk LOOK! That’s the exact face Lance makes when he moons over Keith! They have matching moon-faces, Hunk!”

“Pidge, leave them alone!” Hunk admonished.

Pidge was vibrating like a paint mixer when they all heard the front door open.

“-nd then he pushed me up against his sexy ass car and looked at me with his super pretty eyes and he said I was cute! And it was fucking _awesome!_ ”

Keith, Hunk and Pidge all turned to see Lance skipping backwards over the threshold, his face alive and his hands moving animatedly as he spoke to Allura and Shiro. Allura’s fingers were loosely woven with the older man’s, and she smiled gently at Lance’s giddiness. Shiro glanced over at the three people sat at the table and his eyes widened slightly.

“Uh, Lance…”

“And his voice went all husky and stuff-“

“Seriously, Lanc-“

“And like oh my GOD, Shiro, his eyes look even prettier up close-“

_“Lance!”_

Lance froze at Shiro’s abrupt tone. Allura gingerly lifted one finger and pointed over his shoulder. Lance immediately wheeled around to see the others staring at him from the counter. His eyes locked with Keith’s, and the clock on the kitchen wall seemed to tick even louder as Lance’s jaw dropped.

Keith gave him a shy smile. God Lance was adorable when he babbled.

“Ah,” said Hunk sagely. “There he is.”

“Hey,” Keith tried to say. His voice caught in his throat a little. The language-shift as _hot,_ okay?

Lance’s face went as red as Keith’s Camaro, and he ducked his head, breaking out into nervous Spanish. His hands fluttered by his sides, slapping his legs rapidly, and Keith couldn’t help but laugh at how flustered the other boy looked.

“How much of that did you hear?” Lance mumbled.

He seemed exceptionally interested in the floorboards all of a sudden.

Shiro gave Lance a sympathetic smile as he gently moved with Allura towards the table.

“Not much,” Keith responded.

He stepped towards Lance, softly curling his fingers around one of his crush’s agitated hands as he leaned forward to murmur into the taller boy’s ear.

“Just from when you said you thought I had a sexy.... Car.”

Lance squeaked, and his other hand flew up to clamp down over his mouth.

Pidge cackled loudly, rocking back on the table dangerously. Hunk leapt up from his seat to stop them from keeling over the edge. Keith just laughed and pressed a chaste kiss to Lance’s cheek, watching with satisfaction as the corner of Lance’s mouth tweaked up.

“I was thinking we could all do something soon,” Allura spoke up. “We haven’t gone out as a group yet.”

Shiro pulled out a chair for her at the table, waiting for her to glide into her seat before sitting down himself. Keith sneaked a sidelong glance at Lance, a strong sense of gratification settling in his chest as he saw that the other boy was still beet red. He tugged easily on Lance hand, leading them both over to where the rest of their party were seated.

“I’d be up for that!” Pidge piped up. “I’m seriously ready to whip all of you at pool.”

“Are you even old enough to drink?” Hunk questioned.

Pidge hissed at him. Not even words, just a literal hiss. The large man wilted under their glare.

“Maybe we could go on a trip?” Shiro suggested. “I know I could use a long weekend.”

“No can do, my good people!” Lance chimed in. “I’ve got small children to look after. I don’t think mi madre’s gonna be sympathetic about me taking time off from babysitting.”

A contemplative looked crossed his face.

“Don’t we usually just hang out at the races?”

“The races don’t really count,” Pidge remarked.

Allura’s face darkened, Shiro’s expression following closely behind.

“Yes about those,” Allura began. Her voice was terrifyingly level. “I’ve been thinking of stopping the Paladin races all together.”

“What?!”

Keith turned at Lance’s shriek. The taller boy looked stricken, and his hand tightened around Keith’s fingers.

“You can’t just _stop_ the races!”

Allura looked slightly annoyed.

“Excuse me? It is _my_ land, Lance.”

Lance’s jaw closed with a snap. He looked like he wanted to argue, but a warning look from Shiro had him turning away instead, brow furrowed.

“I don’t like what’s been going on there recently,” Allura stated. “I know the Galra are present, and I will NOT have them operating on my property.”

She punctuated the sentence by reaching across the table to lace her fingers consolingly around Shiro’s arm. The older man shot her a grateful smile that was so full of warmth that Keith felt he had to look away, as if he were intruding on an intimate moment. His eyes settled on Lance, and his heart constricted. The taller boy’s face had paled, and he looked like he was going to be sick.

“And really, it was the events of the last race that made it clear to me that I needed to shut everything,” Allura continued.

She turned her eyes on Lance, concern, protectiveness, and affection all fighting for dominance over her delicate features.

“I was really worried about you, Lance.”

Lance swallowed hard, offering her a weak smile in return.

“Thanks, Allura.”

“As much as I’m going to miss my infallible betting streak, I think that’s probably for the best,” Pidge agreed.

Keith looked across the table to see Hunk nodding his assent.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Allura’s face relaxed into one of clear relief. Her shoulders sagged as she let out a long breath.

“Thank you, friends. Your support means the world to me. I’m so happy to have a family such as you,” she said, beaming.

The group of friends shared a soft moment, each looking at Allura with kindness in their eyes. Keith felt an overwhelming sense of privilege wash over him.

_Family._

The word rang in his ears, clear as a bell, and he felt his heart swell in his chest. He turned to look at Lance again, and was amazed to see him smiling gently at Allura.

Of course, he remembered. Lance was selfless.

A hot crashing of affection and fringed with tentativeness flooded through Keith’s veins, and he felt his ears tingle with warmth as his heart rate galloped.

It was all so new to him, having people who cared about his wellbeing, and that were happy to call him family. More so, it was a lot knowing that he had Lance: Someone to confide in, someone to challenge him, someone he could reach out and kiss…

But he and Lance weren’t officially dating, Keith quickly reminded himself. He couldn’t just kiss him whenever he wanted. Not yet, anyway.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed, Keith moved a little closer to Lance. Sliding his hand around the waistband of the other boy’s jeans, he lightly pressed closer so that their hips bumped. Lance shot him a wide-eyed look that softened into a coy smile, and timidly brought his hand up to rest on Keith’s waist.

Hunk shot them a sly look that made Keith blush, but he didn’t comment.

“So,” Shiro finally said. “What kind of plans were we thinking?”

Pidge opened their mouth to speak when they were suddenly interrupted by the typical tune of Lance’s ringtone. The tall male fished his phone out of his pocket, keeping his other hand somewhat stubbornly on Keith’s waist. Keith felt his fingers tighten around his body as he read the caller ID, before he let out a heavy sigh.

“I gotta take this, sorry.”

Lance shot Keith and apologetic look as he unhooked himself from their position and stepped away. He clicked the receive call button on his phone as he brought it up to his ear, switching into fast Spanish.

“Probably his mum,” Hunk remarked. “I bet he forgot to take the trash out again.”

Pidge sniggered.

“Lance is an artist when it comes to dodging chores. I swear, I need to learn how he does it.”

“Like you have any chores!” Hunk complained. “Matt and your dad just do everything.”

Pidge rolled their eyes.

“Yeah when they’re _around._ Which is never. I swear they two of them have been abducted by aliens or something.”

Lance’s voice suddenly rose with surprise, attracting the attention of those at the table.

"¿Qué? ¿Esta noche? Pensé que era la próxima semana!"

He wheeled around to look at his friends, brow furrowed as he listened to whoever was on the other line. They just stared back at him, non-plussed.

“Sí, sí, por supuesto que los invitaré.”

Lance waved his arm erratically, pointing between each of his friends and mouthing something incoherent. Keith looked round at the others to see them shooting each other equally confused looks. Lance’s brow furrowed further, his lip jutting out as he pouted at the receiver.

“¡Él no es mi novio! ¡Es un amigo y resulta que es un chico!”

Keith heard someone snicker, and he was surprised when he turned to see Hunk’s shoulders shaking with mirth.

“I know enough Spanish to understand that,” the large man said.

He dipped his head under Keith’s questioning look, slightly abashed.

“Sorry dude. I’m not selling anyone out.”

Keith turned his eyes back on Lance in time to see the other boy’s jaw abruptly drop, a new flush creeping pink under his skin. He looked positively scandalized.

“¡NO, NO NECESITO PROTECCIÓN!"

Keith didn’t need to have taken Spanish major to work that one out, and he felt Lance’s blush infect him like a burn. A speedy heat flooded his face, and he shook his head to let his bangs fall into his eyes. Pidge was apparently loving it, whooping with laughter as both boys avoided looking the other directly in the eye. Lance hastily turned away, cupping his hand around the phone to stifle the rest of the conversation.

“Okay, también te amo. Adiós."

Hanging up, Lance made his way back over the table. Placing his hands atop the rough wooden surface, he braced his weight on his arms.

“So, my brother’s in town with his wife, and my sister has come down with her family and my grandma to visit,” he began.

Everyone but Keith broke out into tentative grins, evidently anticipating something Keith wasn’t aware of. Lance sucked in a long breath, holding it for dramatic emphasis as the group leaning forward in their seats.

“So naturally, you’re all invited to _La Fiesta de Sanchez_.”

Pidge let out a cry so loud that they finally did fall off the table. Hunk barked out a sort of pleased shout of triumph as Allura clasped her hands to her chest, her smile dazzling. Even Shiro looked excited, his face cracking into a large smile as he stood up to clap Lance on the shoulder.

“Uuuuhhh…”

Keith’s prior feelings of inclusiveness waned a little as the moment dragged on with everyone neglecting to fill him in.

“Oh right!” Lance gasped, rounding on Keith with a thrilled grin.

“Basically, whenever the majority of my family is together, we have a huge dinner and pretty much everyone is invited. Which means close friends. Which means everyone here.”

Keith felt a little flicker of happiness ignite within him. Lance was opening his home up to him. He was including Keith in something reserved for family and close friends, as he’d said. And he was smiling at him like he couldn’t wait for him to be there. Keith’s chest filled up with a different kind of warmth, the careful, hopeful kind, meshing pleasantly with his feelings for Lance.

“Me too?” he asked hesitantly.

Lance laced his fingers with Keith’s.

“Especially you.”

“Introducing me to your parents already?” he quipped.

“You’ve already met my mother, asshole.” 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BRING ON THE FAMILY FEAST


	12. Late for dinner at 1pm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> La Fiesta de Sanchez does not begin in the evening, which gives Lance and Keith a lot of time together before dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what to put in these notes anymore, but thank you all for the sweet comments! They're what keep me writing this fic :D

La Fiesta de Sanchez, as it turned out, did not start in the evening.

Around 1pm, Hunk rolled up outside Keith’s place with the whole gang in tow, beeping loudly on the horn. Pidge hollered out the passenger seat window for Keith to “move your perky lil butt right now” for a solid five minutes until the neighbour came outside to yell right back. By the time Hunk had rolled his pickup down to the Sanchez homestead a half hour later, he was worriedly muttering about bad timekeeping, though Keith couldn’t possibly imagine that they were later for _dinner._

One glance at the house quickly informed Keith that he was wrong. You could definitely be late for dinner at half one in the afternoon.

The house was in full swing when they entered the kitchen, and Shiro instantly had to catch the edge of the counter to stop himself from stepping on a child that ran underfoot. Two men were carrying tables between them, lining them up in a row to create one long table. A woman stood off to the side, shouting orders at them to move “a little further in that direction!” Keith spotted a heavily pregnant woman chopping carrots on the counter. Maria was stood by the hob, brandishing a wooden spoon and yelling a thousand words a minute in angry Spanish as she attempted to get the kids under control. Upon seeing her guests, she swept across the kitchen with a wide smile, embracing each of them in turn and exchanging a few words of affection. She seemed exceptionally fond of all of them, complimenting Shiro and Allura on their plans, promising to give Hunk leftovers, and insisting that she was going to fatten Pidge up. Keith felt extremely nervous by the time she reached him, unsure of what exact dynamic he was supposed to have with Lance’s mother. Her familiarity with his friends made him feel slightly out of place, as if he were intruding on a club that he wasn’t a part of. The feeling quickly dissipated as Maria wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug that he had to stoop to receive, and Keith felt a surge of warmth settle around his heart. Maria pulled away, clasping his shoulders briefly before she reached up to brush the bangs out of his eyes.

“We must get you a haircut, Keith, hm? This long hair, it is not safe to be driving when you cannot see!”

“Leave him alone, mama!”

Keith looked up to see Lance veering around the group of children that came running through the doorway, carrying two large boxes on his shoulders. Upon seeing his friends, Lance’s face lit up in a smile that momentarily dazed Keith.

“Hey! You guys made it!”

Pidge scoffed.

“We would never miss family night at the Sanchez household,” they said indignantly.

“PIDGE!”

Pidge turned at the sound of their name just as Leo launched himself at them. His tiny arms wrapped around Pidge’s small frame as he barrelled into their small frame, sending Pidge stumbling back a few steps. After realising who had attacked them, Pidge’s face split into a glorious smile.

“Leo! How’s it going buddy?”

Leo let go of Pidge to shoot them a smirk that was worryingly similar to their own. Keith found the implication quite chilling.

“I hit the firewall you told me about. Took me two minutes.”

Pidge beamed proudly.

“That’s thirty seconds faster than last time! You did good, Leo!” Pidge said proudly.

Leo looked like he was about to cry with happiness. Instead, he grabbed Pidge’s hand and ran with them out the room. Lance watched them go, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

“That’s never gonna end well,” he sighed.

“Mrs Sanchez, is there anything I can do to help?” Shiro asked politely.

“Shirogane, how many times have I asked you to call me Maria?”

Maria punctuated her sentence by whipping Shiro’s hip with a tea towel, and Keith was shocked to see the older man rub the back of his neck, looking abashed.

So that was where Lance got the towel whipping from.

“Maria,” Shiro corrected himself.

Maria smiled warmly at him before handing him the spoon she was holding and pointing Shiro towards the pan on the hob.

“Allura, dear, would you mind helping Carmen with the cutlery? I know she’s dying to talk to you about your humanities article.”

“Of course!” Allura answered cheerily.

She gave Maria another quick squeeze before gliding off towards Carmen. Keith watched them exchange pleasantries as Lance handed Allura one of the boxes he was carrying.

“Hunk,” Maria started cautiously. “I know this is a big ask, but since Carmen is here with Emilio and Rosa, and since Alphonse is picking up Stefan…”

“I’m on it!” Hunk said immediately.

He scooped up one of the kids that was running by his feet, as if they weighed absolutely nothing, and they dangled in the air for a second looking absolutely stunned at their sudden airborne circumstance. Keith had a sudden image of a lion picking up its cub by the scruff of their neck. Plonking the child on his shoulders, Hunk turned towards the rest of the kiddy entourage and cried,

“I am the giant Hunk! Ruler of these lands! And I shall not be bested by children!”

With that, he took off outside, the children squealing delightedly as they chased after him. Maria’s face morphed into one of huge relief as she sank into on of the chairs at the long table. It was gone in a second as her eyes snapped open and she pointed a finger accusatorily at Lance.

“Don’t think I don’t see you slacking off, niño

!” she shouted.

Lance froze like a rabbit in headlights, his mouth opening to protest the accusation.

“Ah ah ah! If you don’t have something to do, you can take Keith and that sack of potatoes down to the shack and start peeling them!”

Lance let out an indignant noise.

“Mama! That’s the _worst_ job! And Keith is a guest!”

Maria glared at Lance, and the taller boy immediately lost several inches of his height as he withered under his mother’s stare.

“Don’t you dare try and manipulate me, Lance Sanchez,” she said in a low tone.

“But peeling potatoes is gonna take ages!” Lance complained.

“Then you’ll have plenty of time to chat,” Maria retorted.

Lance huffed loudly and grumbled something in Spanish under his breath. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quiet enough.

Maria froze.

Lance froze.

Turning slowly, Maria narrowed her eyes as she bared her teeth.

_“What was that?”_

Lance frantically turned around, his hands raised in surrender. Or possibly defence.

“Nothing, mama! I didn’t say anything!”

A beat passed, Maria eyeing her son angrily. Then slowly, she lifted one foot, her hand drifting towards her ankle as she leaned down at an angle. The hair on Keith’s arms rose with goose bumps as the air shifted, something primal in the back of his mind raising a glaring red flag that read _DANGER._ Lance’s eyes went impossibly wide with terror, and in an instant he had leapt across the kitchen, grabbing Keith’s hand and wrenching him out of the kitchen. Keith could hear Maria shouting in Spanish as Lance pushed through the door outside, sprinting around the house as he yanked Keith after him. Now, Keith liked to think of himself as pretty physically fit, but the speed at which Lance was running left him wondering. Their fingers twined together tightly, and Keith felt sparks of electricity crackle up his nerves.

They finally drew to a stop behind the large house, and Lance let go of Keith’s hand to lean on his knees as he bent over panting.

“What was that about?” Keith asked incredulously.

“Ignorance is bliss,” Lance said darkly.

Lance turned his back on Keith to make his way over to the shack. He swung the door open and grabbed two chairs, a bucket, and one of the sacks of potatoes that was propped up against the wall. Lance let Keith set the chairs up as he filled the bucket with water from the tap and dragged it over to rest in front them. Out of his pocket, he drew two knives, one of which he handed to Keith as he sat down. Keith sat down as well, the chairs close enough together that their knees brushed.

“Grab. Peel. Sink,” Lance instructed.

Keith watched as he grabbed a potato out of the bag, peeled it, and then chucked the freshly skinned vegetable into the bucket of water before he followed suit. He noticed that Lance didn’t stop bouncing his knee for even a second since the moment they sat down.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Lance commented, his eyes following Keith’s deft movements.

Keith shot him a look.

“I know how to peel a potato, Lance.”

“I _know_ you know _._ I was just saying you’re good at it,” Lance pouted.

He grumpily turned his attention back to the golden peel that was being shaved onto the floor. Keith laughed at the other’s boy’s bottom lip poking out childishly. He wanted to reach out and run his thumb along the pink glistening flesh exposed just under his top lip, but he resisted the urge. His hands were slightly tacky from the potatoes, and Keith didn’t want Lance’s to think of him and remember the taste of uncooked root veg.

“What else am I good at?” he teased.

“Pretty much everything,” Lance answered right away.

He dropped the potato he was holding as he suddenly realised what he’d said, eyes widening. Lance seemed to have surprised himself with his candour. Nonetheless, he didn’t correct himself, and the thought made Keith flush.

“Everything?” Keith asked hesitantly.

Lance looked away, reaching down between his legs to pick up the potato he’d just dropped.

“Yeah pretty much,” he mumbled.

The tops of his ears blazed red, and Keith saw Lance draw his bottom lip into his mouth to chew on it nervously.

Unable to stop himself, Keith reached out to slip his fingers under Lance’s chin. Turning the other boy’s head towards him, he stared into Lance’s sapphire blue eyes, loving the way they complimented the pink glow staining his cheeks.

“Anything in particular?”

Lance shifted forward a little in his chair, eyes locked with Keith’s.

“You’re really good at fighting.”

Keith stayed silent, watching Lance’s face.

“And driving,” Lance tacked on.

“Mm. Anything else?” Keith prompted.

He scooted forward a little in the rickety wooden chair, the legs creaking with the weight shift. Lance’s fingers were twirling his knife furiously.

“I- You’re… A really good kisser,” he murmured.

Keith felt a familiar heat prickle against his skin as he joined Lance in a blush of his own.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You do this really cute thing where you smile between kisses, and your finger tips are really soft and I bet if your took your gloves off your hands would be really soft as well-“

Lance’s mouth snapped shut and he wrenched his face away from where Keith was still gently holding him.

“Sorry,” he said quietly.

Keith blinked in utter confusion. Lance sounded ashamed.

“I talk a lot when I get nervous, and I know it’s really annoying, but I can’t always stop it.”

“It’s not annoying,” Keith said immediately.

Lance chanced a peek at Keith, and was surprised to see the other boy smiling softly at him, his eyes filled with affection.

“It’s fine to shut me up when I start doing it. Otherwise I’ll just talk and talk and talk and it’ll mostly just be shit anyway.”

“It’s not shit. I’m listening.”

Keith’s tone was patient, and Lance felt a strange bubble of destructiveness swell in his mind.

“But it’s annoying. I mean, _I_ find it annoying and I’m the one doing it.”

A strange look passed across Keith’s face, and the dark-haired boy calmly put down his knife to reach across and gently clasp Lance’s hand.

“You’re not annoying me Lance. I like listening to your thoughts.”

“Why?”

Lance felt petulant, but the insecure part of him was egging him on, insisting that there had to be a reason Keith was willing to put up with him. Keith shrugged as if it was the easiest answer in the world.

“Because I find it interesting? Because I like you? Do I need a reason?”

“Well no but…”

“Plus, I think it’s really cute.”

Lance thought his head was going to explode with how hot his face got.

Looking up, Keith didn’t seem to be doing much better. His fingers were still held firmly on top of Lance’s, but he was keeping his eyes carefully trained on the bucket of potatoes. Lance shifted forward in his seat, a little closer to Keith, steeling himself as he tried to dredge up some of his trademark flirtatiousness.

“Soooo… What else about me is really cute?”

Keith sighed wistfully.

“Pretty much everything.”

If Lance’s face got any hotter, he was going to have a stroke.

“Anything in particular?” he managed to wheeze out.

Keith finally turned to look him in the eye, and Lance realised how close their faces were. He was leaning forward in his seat, his fingers woven in Keith’s, and the other boy’s eyes glittered navy in the sunlight, like a midnight sky full of stars. Lance could get lost in them for years. He could feel the warmth from Keith’s face radiating out from his skin, and the long hair in front of his eyes tickled Lance’s nose in the soft breeze.

“That’s- I- Can I kiss you?” Keith blurted out.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Lance said with a smirk, and Keith leant forward.

Purely to wipe it off his face of course. That was it, yep. That was 100% the reason that Keith tilted his head, lifting his chin up to close those last few centimetres between his lips and Lance’s.

Lance lips parted almost immediately, the touch of Keith’s tongue drawing a gasp from his mouth. He dropped the knife he’d been spinning, and it landed on the ground with a thunk. Lance drew his hands up to hold Keith’s face, steadying him whilst drawing him closer, and he lovingly traced his thumbs over Keith’s jawline. Keith reached out blindly to grab the front of Lance’s shirt, sinking his teeth into the other boy’s bottom lip as his fingertips accidently brushed his throat. Lance let out a low sound, his brow furrowing as he moved a hand down to Keith’s waist, drawing him closer.

It was a slightly awkward angle, and Keith could feel himself getting dangerously close to the edge of his seat. Before his legs could buckle from the strain of keeping himself upright, Keith pulled back to rebalance himself.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna end up on the floor,” he muttered.

“Fine by me.”

Keith smacked Lance in the arm, loving the little rush that quivered in his stomach when Lance threw his head back and laughed. Lance’s smile was infectious, and Keith had been contaminated. He pulled Lance back towards him, resting their foreheads together as he grinned. Lance smile dropped, a rare shyness creeping into his eyes.

“We could- I mean, if you want… It might be easier to…” he began.

Keith’s breathing hitched as Lance’s hand slipped cautiously behind his knee, giving his leg a gentle tug. The hand on Keith’s waist squeezed slightly, drawing him ever so slightly closer. Keith felt his eyes widen, a hard lump of nerves forming in his throat, and he struggled to swallow. Lance was watching him cautiously, the hand on his knee no longer pulling, but holding a certain tension to let him know the option was there.

“I-um… Yeah,” Keith mumbled.

His face felt like a bonfire, ferociously hot and glowing.

Wordlessly, he lifted himself high enough out of his chair to move forward. The backs of his legs glided over the tops of Lance’s thighs as he settled himself in the other boy’s lap. The hand that had been behind his knee travelled up to his hip, resting lightly against the waistband of his jeans, and Keith stifled a gasp as he felt Lance’s fingertips wander underneath the hem of his shirt.

Looking down at Lance like this, Keith felt extremely vulnerable. He was opening up a huge part of himself to Lance, a part that very few people got to see, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified. Anything could go wrong – Lance could laugh at him, or tell a poorly timed joke, or someone could catch them. Oh God. Keith didn’t want to think about what would happen if one of Lance’s family members caught them like this. Maria would never let him near the house aga-

“Hey.”

Lance’s voice broke Keith out of his destructive chain of thought, low and husky.

“Stop that,” Lance said softly, reaching up to brush the bangs out of Keith’s eyes so he could look at him.

“Stop what?”

“I can literally _see_ you overthinking this, Keith,” Lance teased.

Keith shot him a glare and Lance chuckled.

“Look, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want-“

“That’s not- I’m fine,” Keith interrupted.

Lance took his hand off Keith’s waist to reach up and cup his face.

“I want to make sure you’re happy.”

Keith’s heart swelled with how sweet Lance was being.

So, naturally, he scowled.

“I’m never happy.”

“Uh huh,” Lance replied absently.

He was still moving his hand up Keith’s shirt, his fingertips tracing Keith’s spine lightly as he watched the other boy shiver.

“I mean it,” Keith insisted.

“Well,” Lance rebuffed. “ _I’m_ happy.”

Lance was trying very hard not to chuckle, his smirk even bigger than before, and he leaned forward to kiss Keith.

“Wait,” Keith said, pulling back.

He remembered what Lance’s had said about his fingertips.

Lance paused, his brows knitting together in confusion. Before he let Lance doubt himself, Keith raised his inner wrist to his mouth. Catching the strap of his glove between his teeth, he gave it a sharp tug, and quickly slipped his gloves off his hands.

Wrapping his arms around Lance’s neck, Keith leaned down to once again seal the space between them. Lance responded immediately, his chin tilting upwards to accommodate the angle. Keith kissed him softly, his lips moving languidly against Lance’s as his fingers came up to curl into his short hair. Lance’s hand roamed carefully under Keith’s shirt, tenderly pressing against the other boy’s lower back. This was new territory, after all, ripe for exploration. His other hand rose up to rest in between Keith’s shoulder blades, his thumb rubbing delicately over the bony points of Keith’s spine, and the dark-haired boy let out a soft noise that Lance smothered with his lips.

“Lance! Keith! Are you done peeling the potat-“

The kiss broke as both boys’ heads whipped around. Louisa stood at the mouth of the shack, mouth hanging open with surprise. Keith let his arms slip from around Lance’s neck, trying to stand up, but Lance seemed too stunned to even move. Keith was left to straddle him awkwardly as Lance refused to release his hold around his hips.

“Uhhhhh…”

Without a word, Louisa spun on her heel and took off back towards the house. Though, not before she’d opened her mouth to bellow.

_“MAMA! LANCE AND KEITH ARE MAKING OUT!”_

The shriek brought Lance back to his senses.

“Shit!”

Lance leapt to his feet instantly. Unfortunately, the action swiftly dislodged Keith from his seat in Lance’s lap, sending him sprawling backwards to land gracelessly butt-first in the bucket of water.

_“Shit!”_

Lance grabbed Keith’s arm to pull him out of the bucket, and Keith was impressed at how little effort it seemed to take the other boy. He’d forgotten how lean Lance’s muscle mass was. Nevertheless, the damage had already been done, and Keith looked down at his soaking wet pants, dismayed.

“Fuck!” Lance shouted. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright,” Keith said gruffly, shaking a few water droplets off his hands.

“No, it’s not. I keep fucking ruining this,” Lance ranted.

He turned to pace away from Keith, his fingers lacing together behind his neck.

“Lance, it’s really alright. I can just change into a spare pair of pants you have lying around,” Keith assured him.

Lance seemed just about ready to crawl under a rock, and he refused to meet Keith’s eyes.

“Hey!”

Lance turned around at Keith’s cry, looking like an animal about to bolt.

“Hey,” Keith said again, softer, and Lance relaxed a tiny bit.

Striding over to Lance, he took the other boy’s face in his hands, forcing Lance to look at him. Tentatively, Keith leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss on Lance’s lips. He didn’t draw away until he felt Lance’s hands drop from behind his neck to hover lightly over Keith’s hips.

“Who’s the one over thinking things now?” Keith whispered against his lips.

Lance’s face melted into one of relief, and he let himself sag a little into Keith’s hold.

“C’mon,” he said after a moment. “We should probably get this bucket back to the house before Mama comes out here with her shoe.”

“What’s she gonna do with her shoe?” Keith questioned.

Lance just gave him a sympathetic look before picking up the bucket and walking back to the house.

When they entered the kitchen, Maria turned from the hob, fixing them with an extremely unimpressed face. She pursed her lips and wrested the backs of her wrists on her hips. Lance dipped his head apologetically. Keith, however, felt the distinct need to shrink into himself, the make himself as small as physically possible. He could see Louisa out the corner of his eye, glaring at him from over the counter, and he avoided her gaze as well. After a second, Maria sighed. Shaking her head, she pointed her wooden spoon at Lance.

“Those potatoes had best be peeled, you two,” she said dismissively. “Keith, you can change upstairs.”

Pidge came through the doorway at that moment, followed closely by Leo. One look at Keith’s drenched pants and Leo erupted into a cacophony of laughter.

“Ooooh, there’s a joke in here I know it,” Pidge promised. “Something about sharing clothes and being married?”

Keith promptly left the kitchen with his face burning, the sounds of Pidge’s cackles ringing over Lance’s protests fading as he climbed the stairs to Lance’s room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so excited about writing the family meal hoooooo boy it's gonna be good


	13. La Fiesta De Sanchez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith has dinner at the Sanchez household without one SINGLE pun about the Spanish Inquisition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hnnnnng I'm so sorry this chapter took longer to write than I expected!  
> Massive thank you once again to the wonderful bunniesandjellyfishes on Tumblr who helped me with the Spanish translations.  
> Also I'm v tired and haven't proof read this, like, AT ALL so apologies for any errors and such.  
> Even so, I hope you enjoy! And I live for comments <3

When Keith returned from Lance’s room, the roles in the kitchen appeared to have switched. The heavily pregnant women cutting vegetables was now leaning back in a chair, her hand absently rubbing her swollen belly. Pidge and Leo were lining extra seats up and down the long row of tables, talking a million miles a minute about the upcoming season of Mr Robot and how plausible it was to actually destroy the world’s economy, and Lance.

Well.

Lance was hunched over the stove, chewing his bottom lip frantically as he intermittently shot his mother fearful glances. When Keith entered the kitchen, Lance’s eyes snapped up and his mouth promptly dropped open.

Keith was wearing a worn out pair of Lance’s jeans. The blue denim wasn’t his usual colour, and the knees were slightly ripped, so Keith figured he probably looked like a stereotypical male casting from a rom com. Lance was slimmer than him also, so if Keith was being honest the jeans clung a little too tightly to his ass.

Lance didn’t seem to mind though, and Keith felt a wicked coil of smugness flare up inside him. Lance tore his eyes away from Keith, shooting his mother a look that was even more fearful than before, and Keith frowned.

He reached out to grab Pidge’s shoulder as they whizzed past with a wicker chair.

“What’s up with Lance?”

Pidge sniggered darkly.

“He tried to follow you upstairs. Said that you may need help finding pants in the wardrobe, and Maria was having _none of that._ I speak enough Spanish to get the gist of what she was saying. ”Not before dinner” and such.”

“Why does he look so… Terrified?” Keith questioned.

Hunk paused in his playing with the children to whisper to Keith.

“Let’s just say that Maria enacted a very stereotypical form of maternal punishment.”

“What?”

Hunk and Pidge exchanged a look.

“Never mind,” Pidge muttered after a second.

Keith decided he didn’t want to know, but watching Lance peer at his mother like she might spontaneously transform into a dragon did make him smirk. So Lance had been trying to sneak some more alone time with him. The thought made a bubble of happiness burst in his chest, and Keith glanced down to make sure the sentiment hadn’t come oozing out of his shirt.

Sidling up behind Lance, Keith bounced up onto his tiptoes to peer over the taller boy’s shoulder.

“What are you cooking?” he murmured into Lance’s ear.

Lance jumped at the closeness, but quickly settled when he realised who it was.

“Uh-ummm,” he stammered.

Keith could feel his face heating up from here.

“This is tortilla. Some people call it Spanish omelette? It’s basically loads of veg and potatoes and spices and stuff all held together with egg. It’s really good.”

Keith leaned back on the counter, taking in the soft smile that pulled the corners of Lance’s mouth as he spoke about his mother’s cooking. Keith couldn’t help but smile himself. Being around Lance, and the others gave him a warm secure feeling he’d never had the pleasure of before. It was as if someone had injected him with melted marshmallows and the gooey sweetness was coursing through his veins straight to his heart.

“You wanna try some?”

Keith blinked as he realised Lance was waving a spatula in his face. A small cut of omelette was perched on the end, wobbling precariously with each wave Lance gave it.

“Uh, sure,” Keith replied.

He reached out to steady the wild spatula, his lips closing around the flat edge to nibble on the omelette. A burst of flavour hit his tongue, and Keith’s eyes snapped up to Lance’s, wide with surprise. Lance shot him a triumphant grin.

“Told you it was good,” he said.

Keith swallowed the bite, feeling a little brighter than he had a moment ago. Lance snickered at him and Keith frowned.

“What?”

“You got a- Hang on.”

Lance reached out to brush his thumb at the corner of Keith’s mouth, and the dark-haired boy felt a speck of food dislodge from his skin. Lance’s thumb lingered at Keith’s lips for a second, both boys locking eyes. Keith suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to bite Lance’s finger, catching the digit softly between his teeth. Before he could do anything, he was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, followed by the kind of high-pitched screaming that can only be made by delighted children.

“Dad’s home!” Lourdes shouted from the hall, followed quickly by. “UNCLE STEFAN!”

Keith practically saw Leo’s ears prick up like a cat’s, and in one leap he’d bounded out into the hallway. Keith could hear the general noise of several small children being greeting at once before two men stepped into the kitchen.

It was immediately apparent where Lance got his height.

Alfonse Sanchez stood at an impressive 6’5”. He wasn’t stacked with muscle, but there was enough definition in his shoulders for Keith to be able to tell that the man had been fit in his youth. His hair was darker than Lance’s and longer, making him look shaggy despite his receding hairline. But what really startled Keith about the man was his facial hair. He had two thick sideburns reaching almost to his jaw, and a large bushy moustache the framed his mouth all the way down to his chin where it joined in an extremely scraggy beard. The fact that he was carrying a fair-haired infant only contributed to his appearance, and Keith suddenly felt very VERY nervous. Alfonse put the child down to exchange pleasantries with everyone before swooping down to plant a huge kiss on Maria. The woman giggled like a schoolgirl, and Keith felt that warmth spread through him again. It was clear that Lance’s family loved each other very much, and he suddenly felt a bubbling sense of privilege swell inside him.

“You must be Keith!”

Keith felt like a rabbit in headlights, taking a moment to collect himself before grabbing the hand that Alfonse had extended to him. Keith expected the man to shake his hand, but instead he pulled him forward, wrapping his other arm around Keith’s shoulders in what the boy could only describe as the softest hug he’d ever received in his entire life. Except Hunk of course. And maybe Shiro. And _definitely_ Lance.

Okay, it was still a great hug.

When Alfonse drew back, Keith couldn’t help but avert his eyes, feeling self-conscious.

“I’ve heard good things about you, son!” Alfonse cried as he gave Keith a little shake by the shoulders.

Keith felt his face heat up, and desperately willed his body to give him a break, just this once in front of Lance’s dad! He had no idea what Lance had been saying about him.

“Let’s hope you live up to expectation, eh?” Alfonse continued.

He gave Keith a cheeky wink, and the dark-haired boy nearly had an aneurism.

“Oh leave him alone, caro! You’ll scare the boy!” Maria scolded.

Alfonse just laughed, gliding over to kiss her cheek. Maria still looked annoyed, but her ire seemed to be quelled by the display of affection.

Stefan strode over to Keith, offering his hand.

“I’m Stefan, Keith. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Nice to meet you t-“

Keith was pulled into a bone-crushing hug, and he swore that he felt a bit of his soul squashed out of his body.

“Oh right! Introductions!” Lance cried, dropping the spatula into the skillet with a clatter.

Maria opened her mouth to yell but Lance cut her off.

“Keith, you know Stefan. And my dad, Alfonse,” Lance began. “So there’s my big sister Carmen and her husband, Mark. And those are their kids, Emilio and Rosa.”

Lance pointed to each person he listed as he rattled off their names.

“You’ve already met Leo, Lourdes, and Louisa. So that just leaves my big brother Toni, and his girlfriend, Emily.”

The pregnant woman gave Keith a friendly wave from her chair, and Lance’s brother clapped Keith on the shoulder. Keith tried to school his features to avoid wincing, still sore from the “hug” Stefan had given him.

“Oh Antonio,” Maria crooned. “You are such a good boy to help your family.”

“Mum, I’ve asked you to called my Toni,” the man said, though Maria just clucked her tongue.

“We really appreciate all your efforts, Antonio. The money you send means we can have evenings like this.”

Keith’s eyes found Lance’s, not surprised to see them blow wide with fear.

Toni frowned, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he opened his mouth to speak.

“What mon-“

“TONI!” Lance shouted, cutting his brother off. “I’D LOVE TO SHOW YOU THIS THING SHIRO GAVE ME FROM THE GARAGE IF YOU’VE GOT A MINUTE LIKE RIGHT NOW IN PRIVATE MAYBE!’

Shiro looked up at the sound of his name.

“What thi-“

“COOL THANKS, IN A SECOND YOU GUYS!”

Lance waved at Shiro, giving him a silent plea with his eyes as he latched his fingers around Toni’s wrist and all but dragged his older brother from the kitchen. Toni let himself be pulled away, though not without a very confused expression painting his features.

Everyone stared after them for a second, the silence broken only by Pidge.

“Errrrr, what was that about?”

Alfonse smiled quizzically at the door Lance and Toni had left through, giving his head a little shake.

“God knows what those boys are up to. Out of sight out of mind, I say.”

Maria opened her mouth to protest, but Alfonse waved his hand to hush her.

“I’m sure they won’t be long, my dear.”

Maria closed her mouth, but irritation was still carved into her features, and Alfonse gave a small chuckle at her clear discontent.

“Well I should hope so,” Maria said with resignation. “Dinner’s just about ready. Shiro, Mark, would you boys help me put these dishes on the table?”

Shiro and Mark jumped to attention, each grabbing a dish of delicious smelling food and transporting it to the heat mats in the middle of each table.

“Allura, dear, would you mind?” Maria continued.

She handed Allura a few jugs full to the brim with deep red liquid mixed with various slices of fruit. Keith was amazed that Allura managed not to spill a drop as she whisked them to the tables.

“Keith, darling?”

Keith’s head whipped around as Maria called his name.

“Would you go and fetch those boys of mine? It’s time for dinner.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Maria scowled at him, and Keith quickly corrected himself.

“Yes, Maria.”

Maria beamed, patting Keith’s cheek affectionately. Keith hoped she didn’t feel how warm he got.

“Good boy,” she said kindly.

Keith made his way out of the kitchen, carefully picking around the cluster of children that seemed to have congregated in the most inconvenient place in the doorway. He was halfway down the hall, his eyes briefly skimming the cracked plaster of the walls before he heard Toni’s voice.

“-gain, Lance! What the hell are you thinking?”

Keith froze.

“It’s just one more race, Toni! One more race and then I’m out. I’ll have enough money saved to keep the house in the clear.”

That was Lance’s voice. Keith felt like a mouse staring at cheese on a trap, the temptation to listen sitting in front of him with the sinister possibility of being caught eavesdropping hanging over him like a guillotine. Unsure of what to do, he stayed where he was. The light from the cracked door flickered as Lance marched past it and suddenly came into Keith’s view. He saw Toni’s agitatedly run his hands through his hair.

“No puedo creer que no me dí cuenta que esto estaba pasando. You could have just asked me or Carmen to help!”

Lance’s head dropped.

“I knew you were saving for your kid, and I didn’t want to stress Carmen out.”

“GODDAMMIT LANCE!”

Toni’s frustrated roar made the hair on Keith’s arm stand on end.

“We’re your _family!_ We’re _supposed_ to help each other out when things are tough!”

Lance looked ashamed of himself, but he pressed on regardless.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Toni. I can handle the Galra.”

“What, like Shiro did?”

Toni’s retort was swift and cutting. Keith felt his breath catch, and he saw Lance’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“His hand didn’t just _fall off_ , Lance,” Toni finished.

Keith felt his own jaw drop.

The night he’d encountered Lance in the alley came flooding back through his memory like a tidal wave.

_‘Weakness is an infection. Better to **cut it off** than let it spread.’_

The image of Shiro’s prosthetic hand swam through Keith’s mind, and the dark-haired boy suddenly felt a roling wave of nausea hit him, almost making him double over. A cold sweat broke out on his skin as the full impact of the realisation hit him.

The Galra had cut Shiro’s hand off. Keith struggled to swallow the thought that they might have even done so whilst he was still conscious, that someone as kind and patient as Shiro had been left bleeding and in pain with the knowledge that he’d never use his left hand again.

But what was worse - what was _worse_ than that realisation– was the knowledge that Lance was, willingly or not, involved with these kinds of people. It sharply dawned on Keith that Lance was in very real danger.

A fierce protectiveness coupled with a tight sense of fear threatened to overwhelm Keith, and he was so caught up in his own tempest of emotions he almost missed Lance’s next words.

“Toni, _please._ I promise I’ll tell you everything and we can talk about this. We can sort all of this out, but please just not tonight. Not in front of the family, and definitely not in front of-“

Lance trailed off, and when Keith looked up his eyes locked with the other boy’s through the crack in the doorway.

“Keith…” Lance breathed.

Keith cleared his throat awkwardly as the crushing reality that he’d been caught settled on his skin. Pushing the door open further, he took a shaky step into the room, trying to avoid Toni’s watchful gaze.

“Sorry to interrupt I was just… Maria said that dinner’s ready,” Keith stammered.

Lance hadn’t taken his eyes off Keith for a second. Keith wasn’t even sure if he’d blinked. Toni looked back and forth between the two of them for a second before shoving his hands in his pockets in a gesture that was oddly reminiscent of Lance.

“I guess we should go then,” Toni mumbled.

He gave Keith a grim smile before walking past him towards the kitchen. Lance was still agape, his mouth only snapping shutting when Keith took another shuffling step towards him.

“How much of the did you hear?” Lance asked quietly.

He sounded scared, and Keith felt that same surge of protectiveness shove itself through his body.

“You didn’t tell me the Galra attacked Shiro,” Keith said.

Lance blanched and averted his gaze.

“Lance,” Keith said.

Lance didn’t look at him, so he tried again.

“Lance,” Keith spoke in an unwavering tone.

When Lance still refused to meet his eyes, Keith stepped right up to him, raising one hand to gently graze his knuckles against the other boy’s cheek. Lance shivered, and finally peeked at Keith.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

It wasn’t an order, but the firmness in Keith’s voice made it clear that it was no longer a negotiation. Lance searched the shorter boy’s face for a second before sighing, his entire body sagging like a deflating balloon. Lifting one hand, he clutched at Keith’s fingers, turning his head to place a kiss on Keith’s palm.

“I will,” he promised. “I’ll tell you everything. Just… Not tonight. Please.”

Keith wanted to argue, but the twisted mixture of guilt and fear and sadness that tugged at Lance’s attractive face was enough to get him to relent. He didn’t want to put anymore burden on Lance than he had to.

Keith agreed with a curt nod.

“Tomorrow,” he asserted.

Lance smiled ruefully.

“Tomorrow,” he echoed.

 

 

 

After they’d joined the rest of the family, Keith quickly realised why _La Fiesta de Sanchez_ was such an event. It wasn’t just that the food was incredible, even though it was. Keith tried several dishes he’d never tasted before, each flavoursome than the last, and he thought his taste buds might combust from how overloaded they were. Everyone complimented Maria on her excellent cooking, to which she just held her chest and smiled humbly. Alfonse looked as he was swelling with pride, and every look he gave Maria could have melted the polar ice caps with their warmth and joy.

The raucous of the meal was even more overwhelming than the flavours. The volume alone had Keith wincing a few times as everyone shouted to be heard over each other and the squealing of the children, English mish-mashing with Spanish and Maria insisting her family speak English to one another in front of guests. At one point, Leo and Emilio had pulled Keith under the table to their “super secret hideout guarded by a dragon”, which turned out to be Leo’s pet frog, fearsomely named “Jason Funderberker”. Keith had allowed them to put the frog on his arm before Alfonse ducked under the tablecloth to warn them of Maria’s impending wrath should they not be back in their chair within the next ten seconds.

But what really struck Keith about family dinner at the Sanchez household was the sheer vivacity of the event. The pure love for one another that poured out of each person seemed to make the entire room glow. The ties of family transparently weren’t limited to blood, and Keith noticed that his friends seemed truly at home with the Sanchez’s. Allura and Emily spoke with shared interest, each supportive of the other’s interests. Stefan and Shiro shared inside jokes, their eyes occasionally twinkling at each other whenever someone made a throwaway comment, and Hunk and Pidge were conversing deeply Maria about the finer points of her cooking. Pidge was trying to simplify Maria’s cooking into a technical metaphor, whilst Hunk, a cook himself, was using his mechanical expertise to craft a more suitable likeness.

It was as if someone had hit the autofocus on Keith’s life, making everything taste better, feel more sensitive, sound sweeter. Even the icy glares Louisa kept shooting him across the table from where she was sat next to Lance didn’t bother Keith all that much. Though, when she kicked him in the shin, Keith couldn’t help but cough out a surprised. “ouch!”. Lance immediately fired off into breakneck Spanish, brandishing his hands at his younger sister as Maria screeched at him to speak in _English in front of guests, Lance!_

Keith self-consciously rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned in to speak to Hunk next to him.

“Did I do something to piss Louisa off or is she just like this with everyone?” Keith asked curiously.

Hunk looked up at Louisa biting back at Lance, her words laced with irritation and indignation.

“Ooooooh, that! Yeah. No. She’s just protective of Lance is all,” Hunk assured.

“Protective?”

“Yeah,” Hunk replied, nodding emphatically. “See, Louisa and Nyma were _super_ close when Lance and Nyma were going out. They were practically sisters. Lance was completely heartbroken when things ended… the way they did. With Nyma.”

Hunk shot Keith a sideways look to see if he was treading into dangerous waters. When Keith’s face remained impassive, the larger man continued.

“I think Louisa felt betrayed, and now she doesn’t trust anyone with Lance. You should see some of the people she’s scared off.”

Hunk’s eyebrows rose and Keith could only imagine what sort of things we was remembering.

Keith frowned.

“But why?” he blurted out.

Hunk cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Doesn’t she want Lance to be happy?”

Hunk’s smile was equal parts warm and sympathetic.

“It’s exactly the opposite, Keith. She _does_ want Lance to be happy. That’s why she’s so protective over him.”

Keith just kept frowning, so Hunk put a hand on his shoulder, pulling their heads closer together as he reached to take Keith’s chin and angle it towards Lance and Louisa.

“Look at how much she loves him.”

Keith was about to open his mouth and tell Hunk that even though he didn’t speak Spanish, he was pretty sure that Louisa had just called Lance a fucking donkey, when he stopped. He watched Louisa carefully, the way that she bickered with Lance, how despite the harshness of her tone there always seemed to be a smile lingering just below the surface of her voice. How despite her frown, there was a softness behind her eyes that spoke volumes.

“That’s so…” Keith struggled to find the word. “Weird.”

“That’s family,” Hunk said plainly, releasing Keith.

There it was again. That word.

_Family._

Keith took a moment to look around the table at the people surrounding him. He watched their faces spark with joy as they spoke to one another, how their touches seemed to linger, and their smiles seemed to stick of their own accord. His gaze drifted back to Lance, at the centre of it all. He was sitting across from Keith, right in the middle of the table, and Keith felt a smile creep up his face again.

Yes, there was Lance. The boy who had brought these people into Keith’s life. The middle child, the middle of the table, the centre of his world.

 _Shit._ What?

Keith physically shook himself, catching Lance’s eye. The tan boy grinned at him, keeping Keith’s gaze as he reached across to shove a hand over Louisa’s scowl. She swore loudly and batted Lance away, but Keith caught the begrudging smile that pulled at the corner of her lips.

“ _Language!_ ” Maria hissed.

Louisa groaned and slumped in her chair, crossing her arms across her chest. Rosa giggled as Carmen said something to Louisa in Spanish. Louisa just shrugged.

“So Keith!” Alfonse boomed from down the table. “Tell us about yourself! Where did you and Lance meet?”

Lance’s smile dropped instantly.

“At Shiro’s garage a few weeks back, sir,” Keith answered smoothly.

Lance’s father raised a patient hand.

“Alfonse, please,” he said gently. “And did you two hit it off right away?”

 _“Daaaaaad,”_ Lance groaned, slumping down into his seat to mirror Louisa.

His resemblance to his sister was uncanny, and Keith heard Pidge snicker. I mean, Lance acting like a grouchy fourteen year old was pretty funny, even Keith had to admit.

Shiro chuckled from where he was sat down the other end of the table.

“It was definitely something of a first encounter,” he said amusedly.

“I hope Lance wasn’t too flirtatious with you,” Emily said.

The knowing glint in her eye spoke of experience, and Keith wondered if Lance had ever tried to hit on Emily before she’d gotten together with his older brother.

“Oh don’t tell me!” Carmen chimed in. “Did he hit you with the famous, “I’m learning about important dates in history” line?”

Louisa snorted, breaking out of her self-imposed isolation.

“Knowing Lance it was probably something like, ‘Sale in my bedroom, clothes 100% off’.”

Lance gasped dramatically.

“I have more class than that!”

Louisa raised an eyebrow, looking more pitying than sceptical.

“Was that an earthquake or did you just rock my world?” Pidge drawled in a disturbingly accurate impression on Lance.

“So what time do you have to be back in heaven?” Mark piped up, flexing his biceps as he waggled his eyebrows comically.

Lance looked extremely offended.

“Hey! That’s-“

“There must be something wrong with my eyes, I can’t take them off you,” Toni added.

“I seem to recall you using that one,” Emily chided.

Toni raised his hands in admittance, leaning over to kiss Emily on the temple.

Maria tsked tiredly.

“He gets it all from his father,” she sighed. “Such naughty behaviour! I’m surprised he didn’t use Alfonse’s favourite. ‘Your eyes are as blue as the ocean, and I’m lost at sea!’”

“As I remember it,” Alfonse said with a wicked glint in his eye. “That one actually worked.”

Everyone at the table _ooooh_ ed, the children even going to far as the paddle their hands against the table top. Maria spluttered, looking torn between blushing and smacking Alfonse in the face. She settled for swatting him in the arm, and the older man threw his head back with a peal of laughter.

Lance huffed like a spoilt child as his family chuckled at the ghosts of pick-up lines past.

“I’m came out to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.”

“Awww, Lance!” Allura managed to get out through her giggles.

He pouted furiously, sinking even lower into his seat.

“¡Claro! Todos pateen a Lance mientras ha caído. No es como que me importe o algo así,” Lance grumbled.

Louisa snickered, poking her brother in the arm.

“ _ENGLISH,_ Lance!” Maria shouted, banging her hand on the table with a force that startled Keith.

The woman sighed heavily as she leant back in her chair, grumbling to herself.

“Juro por Dios estos niños...”

There was a beat the second the words left her mouth. A beat of such absolute silence and stillness that Keith genuinely thought for a second that time had stopped.

And then, the table erupted.

If Keith had thought it was noisy before, it was nothing compared to this. The deafening roar that filled the room was loud enough to have him slapping his hands over his ears out of instinctual defence. The scraping of chairs across the wooden floor joined the mix as everyone clamoured to their feet, pointing accusatorily at Maria who looked absolutely scandalised.

Her children were all yelling in Spanish, Shiro and the others looking elated as they shouted, “HAT!”

“What the hell is going on?!” Keith managed to yell over the noise.

“It’s a tradition!” Allura shouted back. “If Maria speaks Spanish after telling someone off for doing so, she has to wear this ridiculous hat for the rest of the meal!”

Keith positively balked at the explanation. He turned to look at Lance and _oh boy_ did he simultaneously regret and applaud that decision. Lance’s entire face was lit up with triumph, his eyes shining with ecstasy. Keith heart thudded heavily in his chest. Lance’s smile could have powered New York for a decade. Goddamit, Keith was gay.

Alfonse made hushing gestures with his hands, slowly getting the company to settle down. Once everyone had returned to their seats, he turned to his wife.

“Maria, my dear, I love you more than there are stars in the sky,” he said lovingly.

A flicker of hope glistened in Maria’s eyes.

“But!” Alfonse waged on, and Maria’s face dropped. “Rules are rules, my love, and we have all borne witness to your _terrible crime_ of succumbing to your mother tongue.”

Chuckles broke out intermittently along the table, and Keith found himself unable to help joining in. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had fun like this.

“Leo! Lourdes! Would you do me the great task of bringing forth the Shame Hood!” Alfonse roared theatrically.

His two youngest children scuttled out of the room with excited squeals, returning seconds later with what Keith could honestly agree was a truly ridiculous hat. It was shaped like a pig, two glittery white wings sprouting from either side of its body. Keith didn’t need to know the history behind the tradition to understand the sentiment, “when pigs fly”.

Maria sighed in complete defeat, bowing her neck graciously as Alfonse lowered the hat onto the crown of her head. As soon as she straightened up, the family clapped with a good-natured cheer, and Maria raised her hand like an actress accepting an award.

Keith felt Allura’s knee bump against his, and he was surprised at how knobbly her knees were. As soon as Keith turned, he discovered why.

In all the chaos, Lance had taken the opportunity to slip around the table and switch seats with Allura. Keith glanced up to see the beautiful women smirking conspiratorially at him, and he didn’t even bother trying to supress the smile he shot back.

“Hey,” Lance murmured.

Keith leaned closer to the other boy, lowering his voice.

“Hey yourself.”

“Are you enjoying dinner?” Lance asked.

“Yeah. Your mum’s an amazing cook,” Keith replied with a grin.

Lance’s million-volt smile was back.

“Are you having a good time?”

“Honestly?” Keith sighed. “The best.”

Lance flushed a deep crimson as Keith laced their fingers together under the table. Keith’s gaze travelled up their linked hands, up Lance’s arm all the way to his shoulder. He hadn’t given the other boy enough credit before, Keith realised. Lance was seriously lean. It was obvious there was some power behind those arms, whether or not they were bulky, and Keith suddenly wanted to tug Lance up to his bedroom right this second. Push him up onto the desk to watch the way his face would flush as Keith ground their hips together.

“They’re holding hands!”

“I _know,_ Lourdes. I can see them.”

Loud whispers from underneath the table drew Keith back to the here and now, and he realised that some of the children had made their way back into the “super secret hideout”.

“Is Keith Lance’s boyfriend?”

Keith felt a little rush go through his at that word.

Silence followed the question, before-

“You can’t just SHRUG, Emilio!”

Keith decided to tune them out, focusing instead on the way Lance bumped their knees together again, lingering a little longer than before. Keith looked up to see Louisa scowling at him again, and his heart sank a centimetre. Louisa looked back and forth between Lance and Keith for a tense few seconds. She appeared to be weighing out Lance’s reaction, and Keith felt as if he were in the middle of the world’s most deadly equation. Eventually, Louisa’s scowl softened, and though she didn’t smile, she seemed as though she were no longer trying to melt Keith with her gaze.

Lance chuckled and leaned across to whisper in Keith’s ear. Keith felt his face get warm as Lance’s breath ghosted against his neck.

“She likes you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the hat thing?  
> Tweaked a little bit from a tradition at Christmas dinner which we share with like 3 other families.
> 
> Here's the hat: 
> 
> https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gw1nq6Lp32Y/UA_GbenVaKI/AAAAAAAAGUE/mShVSN0w25Q/s1600/Crazy+and+Funny+Hats+05.jpg
> 
> Translations:  
> No puedo creer que no me dí cuenta que esto estaba pasando - I can't believe I didn't realise this was happening.
> 
> ¡Claro! Todos pateen a Lance mientras ha caído. No es como que me importe o algo así, - Sure! Everyone kick Lance while he's down. Not like I care.
> 
> Juro por Dios estos niños... - I swear to God, these children...


	14. Louisa scares everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole family wingman Lance, and fight club gets cheeky ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASDFGHJL LKG: I did not realise I had to update this the week has come by so soon!  
> As always, thank you to bunniesandjellyfishes on Tumblr for the translations which are as follows:
> 
> Creo que esas frases para ligar de versed funcionaron - I guess those pick-up lines really did work 
> 
> ¡Ahí está! Mi hermanito ya tan grande y seduciendo hombres sexys - There he is! My baby bro all grown up and seducing sexy men 
> 
> ¡Nada de sexo hasta el matrimonio, Lance! - No sex before marriage, Lance!
> 
> Thank you again for all the lovely comments! They keep me ALIVE <3

There was too much energy in the Sanchez household for the evening to effectively peter out. Though when 11pm rolled by, Shiro announced that he and Allura wouldn’t impose on the family’s evening any longer, shooting meaningful glances at Hunk, Pidge, and Keith to follow suite.

“Shiro, caro, you are never intruding in this house!” Maria insisted fiercely.

Shiro cheeks actually turned a little pink, and Allura wrapped herself around his arm with a warm smile on her face.

“You are always welcome,” Alfonse said. His tone was much softer then Maria’s vehement affection. He made sure to look Keith dead in the eye as he added, “All of you.”

Keith felt himself flush with gratitude, and he gave Alfonse a grateful smile. The older man clapped him on the shoulder with a hearty laugh, his entire moustache trembling.

Stefan stepped into give Keith another one of his boa constrictor embraces, and Keith braced himself to have the wind crushed out of him when Emily swooped in like a heavily pregnant angel. She gave Keith a light squeeze, and the dark-haired boy found himself floundering a little, unsure of where to put his hands. He settled for placing one right between her shoulder blades, careful that he didn’t push too close to her swollen belly.

“It was so lovely to meet you, Keith,” Emily said, pulling back.

Keith opened his mouth to respond when he felt a gentle pressure knock his abdomen. Emily gasped, and the whole family paused their farewells to look at her, breath held.

“Was that…?” Keith trailed off.

He felt as if he’d accidentally experienced something intimate that wasn’t meant for him, until Emily laughed breathlessly.

“Sorry,” she said shyly. “It’s the baby kicking.”

Keith froze, staring.

Toni was the first person to break the spell, moving forward to cover Emily’s tummy with the palm of his hand. His face broke out into a smile so bright it could have rivalled Lance’s.

“That’s incredib-“

Toni hadn’t even finished the word when the entire company swamped Emily, everyone pushing closer, packed like sardines in a can as they stared at her pregnancy bump.

“Give her some room!” Toni complained, swatting his hands as if he were trying to deter some fairly persistent flies.

It was to little avail. The children, Leo, Lourdes, Emilio, and Rosa, had their tiny little fingers on Emily’s tummy before anyone could stop them. They all waited with baited breath at the stillness, before erupting into ecstatic giggles as the baby kicked.

Keith looked on in wonder as everyone scrambled to feel the baby kicking.

“Do you want to feel?”

Keith turned his head to see Lance looking at him with sheer excitement. He’d picked up Rosa, and was holding her on one hip, her curly hair disappearing into the crook of his neck as she drifted off in his arms.

“Errr, I don’t think I sh-“

“Here, feel!” Lance interrupted him.

He grabbed Keith’s wrist and dragged him forward, gently pressing it against Emily’s tummy. Keith’s hands were still bare from where he’d left his gloves in the shed, and he could feel the warmth of Emily’s skin coming through the thin sweater covering her belly. A few seconds passed with nothing, and Keith felt a horrible awkwardness creep up on him as he stood stoically, hand pressed against the body of someone he’d only met a few hours earlier. He was about to uncomfortably draw his hand away when he suddenly felt a light pressure prodding against him. Lance grinned as Keith gasped involuntarily, and Emily positively beamed at him.

“That’s…” Keith struggled to find the word.

“Pretty cool, right?” Lance helped him finish.

Keith turned to Lance, and something overwhelming hit him like a freight train.

Lance’s smile was powered by pure happiness as he lovingly rocked Rosa against his chest. His face was turned almost subconsciously towards her as he pressed his cheek to her head, and Rosa wrapped her little arms around his neck with a sleepy sigh in response.

Keith felt a white-hot spike of pure dopamine flood through his veins as the conclusion of the evening came at him all at once.

He didn’t know if Lance had done it intentionally, or if it was just how he was. A dark voice in the back of Keith’s mind thought it might be pity. But it faded into a bitter whisper, drowned out by the overflowing sense of family that Lance had shown him. That Lance had made sure he was a part of.

And here Lance was, standing with a child in his arms, looking at Keith with a glowing smile as he held his wrist loosely. They were still new to each other, Keith reminded himself. Still exploring their relationship. But there was a little tug at the back of his mind that absorbed the image of the taller boy holding Rosa, committing that soft smile on his face to memory as it buried itself under his skin and wove itself into the fringes of Keith’s heart.

“Alright,” Carmen cut in. “Time to get this one to bed.”

Lance untangled Rosa from his body, kissing her affectionately on the forehead when she made a small grumble of protest. Carmen cradled the child in her arms as she continued saying goodbye to her family.

Shiro and Allura made their way outside, Keith following Hunk and Pidge towards Hunk’s pickup. A gentle warmth against his fingers alerted him to Lance holding his hand, and he turned to see the other boy smiling cockily at him.

Keith was at a loss for what to say. How was he supposed to convey how much he’d enjoyed himself? There were not enough words in the English language for Keith to accurately describe what the gesture, what the _evening,_ had meant to him? Lance managed to break the mould, ever at the ready with his words.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to train tonight,” he said.

He actually looked a little remorseful, though Keith couldn’t begrudge him for wanting to spend time with his family, especially if his family was as welcoming as this.

“It’s okay,” Keith responded automatically. “I-er.” He suddenly felt extremely tongue-tied.

“Thank you,” he finally got out. “For inviting me tonight.”

Lance lit up like a Christmas tree.

“I’m glad you had a good time, man.”

Keith swallowed, looking down at his feet. He gave Lance a sincere nod, feeling the familiar burn on his cheeks as Lance squeezed his hand, understanding. Keith held onto Lance’s fingers like a lifeline, anchoring himself amongst the emotions that threaten to overwhelm him.

“I hope the kids didn’t scare you too much,” Lance said with a grimace.

Keith laughed.

“Leo’s already texted me about fifteen memes. I don’t even know how he got my number.”

“Only fifteen?”

Keith grinned at Lance’s confused expression, and brazenly took a step forward.

This was new territory. They’d kissed before, but somehow doing it in front of people felt like a whole new level of intimate. Keith really hoped Lance was ready for that, because he honestly wasn’t sure if he could handle it on his own.

“Training tomorrow night?”

“You know it,” Lance fired back. His cocky grin was back in place. “I’m gonna wipe the floor with you, just you wait.”

“I’ll be waiting a long time then.”

Lance moved to shove Keith’s shoulder, a disgruntled pout quirking his mouth. Keith feinted deftly, catching Lance’s free hand with his. Lance stared down at their twined fingers, and he mumbled so quietly Keith had to strain to hear him.

“I was right. Your hands are soft without your gloves on.”

Now, Keith loved his gloves, and he loved that they annoyed Lance. But in that moment he was seriously _seriously_ considering burning whatever pairs he had just so that he could feel Lance’s skin on his again. Feel his long fingers rub lightly across his knuckles in a gesture of affection so sweet that Keith wasn’t even aware he’d rocked forwards onto the balls of his feet to close the distance between them. Lance looked up, startled, and his eyes widened with surprise as Keith caught Lance’s lips with his own.

It was a chaste kiss, long and sweet, as both boys clasped each other’s hands. Keith felt the world fall away, his eyes fluttering closed so that he could let the sensation of Lance’s touch and Lance’s smell fully envelope him. Lance’s lips parted long enough for the taller boy to draw in a shuddering breath when a loud piercing whistle broke through their moment.

Both boys started, heads whipping round to see the Sanchez family leaning out of the kitchen windows, cheering raucously. Maria was waving her pig-hat with triumph as Toni leered at his brother, and Lourdes, Emilio, and Leo seemed to be doing some sort of war dance. Keith noticed that even Louisa’s mask of cold stoniness had cracked a little to reveal a close-lipped smile. She quickly turned away when she saw Keith watching her, her features morphing back into her usual scowl.

Carmen shot Lance a thumbs up, and Lance smiled toothily as he released one of Keith’s hands to rub the back of his neck.

Alfonse smiled somewhat amusedly.

“Creo que esas frases para ligar de verdad funcionaron.”

Toni feigned wiping a tear away from his eye as he latched an arm around Emily’s waist.

“¡Ahí está! Mi hermanito ya tan grande y seduciendo hombres sexys.”

“¡Nada de sexo hasta el matrimonio, Lance!”

Lance’s smile dropped at that last comment, and he turned an impressive shade of pink. Keith chuckled nervously at the other boy’s embarrassment.

“What are they saying?”

_“Nothing important!”_

Keith hummed at Lance’s flustered appearance, giving his hand a small pull to bring the taller boy’s attention back to him. Pidge was being uncharacteristically quiet behind them, and Keith knew that they were waiting for him to get into the pick up to ridicule him. It was worth it though, for the evening he’d just had with Lance and his family.

“8pm tomorrow?” Keith asked.

He still felt hesitant, but the feeling dissolved when Lance beamed at him.

“8pm tomorrow.”

Keith was about to say something else when Lance pulled him into a hug, turning his head to kiss Keith’s temple. It was an oddly tender gesture, considering they’d kissed a second ago, and Keith suddenly felt a lot more conscious of Lance’s family. The Sanchez’s were still whooping and whistling at them, but they seemed to be settling down, apparently understanding Keith’s shyness.

Keith’s body went rigid as Lance wound his lean arms around Keith’s shoulders, and his back was so tense it felt like a plank of wood. But after a few second, he relaxed. Lance wove his fingers into the dark curls at the nape of Keith’s neck, his fingernails ever so lightly grazing his scalp. Keith allowed himself to loop his arms around Lance’s miniscule waist. He knew Lance was by no means weak, but he felt so small that Keith was worried he’d break him like a toothpick and shatter the moment. Instead, he turned his head to bury his face in the crook of Lance’s neck the way Rosa had, feeling the same sense of security he was sure the child had felt as Lance held him tightly.

The moment was broken, this time by a loud honking cutting through the night air. Keith turned to see Pidge leaning on the horn as Hunk fretted over the noise, their face dripping boredom. Lance glowered at Pidge but released Keith, shoving his hands into his pockets as he rocked on his toes.

“Bye, Lance.”

“Bye, Keith.”

Keith made his way over to Hunk’s pickup, hopping up the step to slide along the passenger seat next to Pidge. The Sanchez family waved manically at them as the jeep and the pickup made their way shakily down the dirt track away from the house. Keith’s face ached from smiling, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the grin to drop from his face. Pidge was regarding him curiously, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care. Hunk shot him a sideways glance, smiling in a thoroughly satisfied sort of way.

“Yeah,” he said knowingly. “They have that effect.”

 

 

Leo: So are you Lance’s boyfriend?

Keith: Leo we’ve been over this. That’s a discussion between me and Lance.

Leo: L

Leo: But Lance REEEEEALLLLY likes you!

Keith: Well I really like Lance too

Leo: So have you told him?

Keith: Told him what?

Leo: That you loooooooove him!

Keith: Leo that’s not- How did you even get this number??

Leo: Oh Louisa gave it to me

Keith: WHY DOES LOUISA HAVE MY NUMBER???

Leo: You know, in case

Keith: In case of what?

Keith: Leo?

Keith: Leo, I’m serious. Louisa scares me.

Keith: Holy shit don’t tell her I said that.

Keith: And don’t tell your mum that I swore in front of you over text.

Leo: Louisa says you’re right to be scared of her

Keith: I told you not to tell her that!

Leo: She also says you’re Lance’s boyfriend

Keith: I TOLD you, that’s between me and Lance

Leo: Yeah but I think Lance really wants you to be his boyfriend

Keith: …

Leo: I just asked him and he’s gone all red!

 

Lance: Keith pLS STOP TEXTi NG MY BROTHER

Keith: He keeps asking if we’re boyfriends

Lance: what did u tell him?

Keith: I told him it was between me and you

Lance: oh

Lance: soooooo

Lance: does that mean ur open to the idea?

Keith: Are you asking me to be your boyfriend over TEXT?

Lance: if I was would u say yes?

Keith: No, because that’s pretty douche-y.

Lance: oMG u do all ur punctuation and capitals nd stuff over text!!!

Keith: ????

Lance: SO CUTE <3

Keith: ….

Lance: ur blushing aren’t u ;)

Keith: SH uT UP

Lance: WOOOOOOW spelling errors i must be getting to u ;P

Keith: Fuck off

Lance: :(((((

Keith: Yes

Lance: yes???

Keith: I’m saying yes

Lance: yes to what??

Keith: Yes… I wanna be boyfriends…

Lance: AWWWWW BABE <3333333

 

Keith’s training sessions became a lot more gruelling after that. Lance found himself so exhausted after a round of sparring that he was barely able to turn his usual charm all the way up, choosing instead to collapse in a heap on the mats whenever Keith finally announced that they were done for the evening.

Keith was a rather attentive coach, it turned out, always making Lance stretch out his muscles so that he didn’t get injured, and giving him tips on his technique along with suggestions of ice baths and workouts he could do in the meantime.

Lance was definitely starting to notice a change in his body, too. Whilst he hadn’t exactly been tiny before, his muscles were certainly beginning to show more definition, the skin wrapping round them tighter to reveal new grooves and ridges that he wasn’t aware he even had. Lance made a big show of flexing in front of the Keith, ever since he’d noticed the other boy eyeing up his arms at the dinner table. It certainly seemed to have an effect. Keith’s eyes would linger on his biceps for a touch longer than usual before he looked away with a cough, hand coming up to cover his mouth.

Lance was getting faster too. One evening he’d managed to sweep Keith’s feet out from under him, sending the Korean boy sprawling on his back. Keith had sat up with such a perplexed expression that Lance had involuntarily let out a huffing laugh of disbelief. That is, right up until Keith had decked him. Lance would be lying if he said being thrown about like a rag doll wasn’t a tiny bit of a turn on.

The two had relaxed into a routine over the past two weeks. Spar, talk, relax.

As it turned out, Keith didn’t have a huge knowledge of films, something that Lance took as a personal offense. And he’d made it his mission to educate Keith on all pop culture film classics.

“Oh please,” Keith snorted at the screen one evening.

“What?” Lance queried.

“Her mum’s not just gonna offer her condoms! This film is so unrealistic… And Damian is such a stereotypical representation of gay people.”

Lance gasped in horror.

“I’ll have you know that Mean Girls is a classic, and you’re gonna be hearing me quote it _a lot._ ”

Keith groaned in protest, but quietened down quickly when Lance planted a risky kiss on his neck. Keith had shivered, and Lance made a mental note that the other boy was sensitive under his ears.

Tonight was different though. Tonight, their sparring match came just before a race, and Lance was just about crawling up the walls by the time Keith opened the door. His blood was pumping in his ears as he skipped into the gym, flinging his hoodie in the corner as he took up a fighting stance.

“This is it, mullet! Tonight’s the night I’m gonna knock you on your ass,” he announced proudly.

“Looking for an excuse to feel me up?” Keith shot at him, loving the way Lance’s cheeks reddened a shade.

“Yeah yeah, that’s reverse psychology if I ever heard it. C’mere and fight me.”

Keith sighed with a smile, stepping onto the mats as he took up his own stance.

Before he was even ready, Lance launched himself at him. Keith dodged the attack, dropping low to kick out at Lance’s ankles. With impressive speed, Lance hopped over Keith’s legs, aiming a punch towards his crouching opponent. Keith rolled to his side, getting back to his feet and reorienting himself. Only when he looked up, he saw Lance’s foot mere inches away from his face. Keith barely had a second to register what had happened before Lance’s kick connected squarely with his chest, sending him flopping backwards with a heavy “ _OOF!”_

Keith looked up to see Lance blinking in surprise. The taller boy seemed so shocked that he’d bested Keith, it took him a couple of frozen seconds before he moved.

“Holy shit! Keith, are you okay?”

Lance darted forward, hand outstretched to help Keith up when he stopped in his tracks. He seemed to be remembering the last time he’d landed a hit, and was struggling to decide whether or not he should keep his distance and his pride, or chance his win by being chivalrous. Keith saved him the decision by rolling back up to his feet.

“That was… Really good, Lance!”

Lance glowed with the praise, his lips curling into a goofy smile as his eyes twinkled in joy.

“Yes! I beat Keith! I beat Keith!” Lance cheered.

He performed a weird little victory dance, and Keith laughed at the other boy’s enthusiasm. That is, until he fully took in what Lance was wearing.

He’d been too distracted by Lance’s eagerness earlier that he hadn’t really noticed, but now he’d taken a step back Keith realised that Lance was wearing a pair of pretty short… Well… shorts. They hit his thigh about mid way down, but the taller boy’s movement caused them to ride up along his long leg, showing off his toned muscles.

Keith heard his breathing hitch, and a furious blush flooded his face.

“Jeez, dude, are you okay?”

Lance made his way over, bending his knees a little to bring himself eyelevel with Keith.

“What do you want?” Keith huffed.

“Err, I want to make sure my boyfriend’s alright after suffering a _humiliating_ defeat?” Lance said nonchalantly.

Keith’s shoulders hiked up towards his ears at the word “boyfriend”, and he wrapped his arms around himself, drawing his body inwards at the little thrill that rippled through him.

“Wow, seriously are you alright?”

“Yea-yeah,” Keith stuttered. “It’s just… Still pretty strange. Being “boyfriends” and stuff.”

Lance frowned, a drop of disappointment and anxiousness mixing in with his expression like ink through water.

“Oh. I mean, if you don’t want to be-“

“No, I do!” Keith interrupted hurriedly. “I… Really like you calling me that.”

“What? My boyfriend?”

Lance’s trademark shit-eating grin was plastered across his face like a billboard.

Keith covered his mouth with his hand, determinedly averting his gaze. Lance rested his forehead against Keith’s temple, grinning down at him with blue eyes burning.

“Keith is my boyfriend,” he whispered gleefully.

Keith removed the hand from his mouth to slap it over Lance’s lips.

 _“Shut up,”_ he whispered fiercely.

Lance could feel the heat emanating from Keith’s cheeks, the thought giving him a wicked dose of satisfaction. In a childish move, he squished his tongue out between his lips, cackling wildly as Keith yanked his hand away with a disgusted yell.

“Did you seriously just LICK ME??”

Lance’s smirk was impish.

“I seem to recall you saying something about dirty tactics?”

Keith felt competitiveness boil beneath his skin.

There it was again. The feeling he’d had the first night he’d ever set eyes on Lance. The unbearable itch to wipe that stupid cocky smile off his face.

Keith couldn’t bear it. He had to do something, _something,_ to one up Lance. With a growl, he stepped forward, pushing Lance up against the wall as he pressed their mouths together in a searing kiss. Lance made a startled noise before melting into it, his fingers coming up to tangle in Keith’s hair the way he knew his boyfriend liked. He tugged gently, swallowing the moan that poured out of Keith’s throat. Before he could get carried away, Keith tore his mouth from Lance’s leaving the taller boy gasping at the absence. Keith didn’t miss a beat before swooping in to bite Lance’s neck, and the stuttering cry that ripped itself out of Lance’s throat sent a thick wave of heating pooling down to his groin. Lance’s hips bucked forward as Keith’s hand found it’s way under his shirt, curling against his lower back, and Keith ground their hips together in a way that made Lance dig his fingers into Keith’s scalp.

“Who knew you had a thing for _licking hands,_ Keith,” Lance managed to gasp out.

Keith pulled away to see that _same goddamn smirk,_ and he down right snarled.

Lance’s eyes widened at the hunger on Keith’s face when his phone went off. Lance groaned, head lolling back against the wall, as Keith seemed to catch his breath. The dark-haired boy was panting as if he’d just run a marathon.

Lance reached over to grab his phone out of his jacket, flicking through the texts quickly. His face settled into a stony look of malcontent as he read what was on the screen.

“Anything important?” Keith asked.

“Just… Annoying stuff.”

Keith recognised the code immediately. It was the Galra.

Despite promised to explain things, Lance had yet to open up about the situation. Keith had been on a bit of a new relationship high, and so he’d let things go in order to indulge in how Lance made him feel.

 _Selfish,_ he told himself harshly. _Stupid._

Lance put his phone back into his jacket, letting it hit the floor with a dull thud as he sighed wearily. Keith came up behind him, curling his arms loosely around Lance’s waist as he pressed a lazy kiss into the taller boy’s shoulder. Lance peered back at Keith cautiously, his face nervous.

“I think,” Keith murmured. “It’s time you and I had a little chat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we goooooo!
> 
> Come scream at me on Tumblr @zizzani


	15. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith talk about the Galra and get cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's already been a week???
> 
> Okay, now that things are getting a bit clearer, we can progresses *throws confetti*  
> I felt like a fluffy sorta chapter was necessary for what's coming up next on this space :D

The glass in Lance’s hand felt like a lead ton, hanging between his legs as he rested his elbows on his knees.

He sat on Keith’s sofa, playing agitatedly with the glass of water Keith had gotten him after training, gnawing on his lip in a mixture of dread and anticipation. Now, Keith sat on the sofa across from him, waiting patiently. His face remained impassive, though Lance reminded himself that surly/emotionless was like, Keith’s default face. Like resting bitch face but less interested.

Lance drew in a deep breath, his chest puffing out like a bullfrog before released it in an exaggerated huff.

“So! The weather huh?”

“Lance,” Keith said warningly.

Lance huffed again. Of course he couldn’t talk his way out of this. Sure he was good at talking, but Keith was regarding him with a look that was chillingly level. A look that said, “I can sit here all night until you run out of steam buddy.” And sure, Lance was competitive, but he didn’t wanna call Keith’s bluff on this. He knew he’d lose. Instead, he asked:

“What do you want to know?”

Keith shifted forward a little in his seat, mimicking Lance’s pose, elbow rested on his knees.

“How did this happen?” Keith asked.

Lance allowed himself a rue smile. The glass in his hand was empty now, so that didn’t stop him from twirling it in his fingers. Damn, he was jittery.

“I dunno if you’ve noticed, but my house is kinda… I dunno, decrepit?”

Keith frowned immediately.

“It’s not decrepit, it’s just… Lived in.”

Lance snorted.

“Keith, c’mon. You don’t have to be nice. It’s not a house, it’s termites holding hands.”

Keith’s mouth pressed into a hard line, like he was fighting off the urge to argue back.

“Anyway,” Lance continued. “My parents have been paying off the mortgage we got on it but the interest spiked so it’s getting to be a bit of a push to afford it.”

Keith’s brow furrowed deeper, but he remained quiet. Lance span the glass in his hands again.

“Dad’s been taking double shifts at work to try and cover the cost, but it was really starting to cut into things. Having a big family is hard to look after.”

Keith’s eyes tightened around the corners, his expression growing more pained by the second. Lance felt anxiety churn in his gut. He didn’t want Keith to pity him. He could handle the worrying, and the lashing out at his own stupidity. Hell, he could even handle threats from the Galra. But Keith’s pity? Nah. No thanks. Lance didn’t need that. Put it away.

“You needed money,” Keith surmised.

His face held the look of someone on the brink of discovery, but his voice betrayed him. Lance could distinctly detect the pang of sadness that coloured his tone like a stain.

“Yeah, and the races were a great way to make it. Plus Toni living out of town made it really easy to just… lie about where it was coming from, you know?”

Keith shook his head, running a hand through his hair. Lance wanted to run his fingers through Keith’s hair too, but he doubted that was going to happen right now. Any attempt at deflection and Keith would probably shut him down faster than an artisan coffee house parked next to a Starbucks.

“I don’t see how the Galra fit into this equation.” Keith pointed out. The sadness in his voice had hardened into crystal bitterness, clear and sharp and cutting.

Lance hummed approvingly at his boyfriend’s observation.

“So a couple of weeks into racing, I got approached by this guy. Sendak. Said they’d offer me ‘insurance’ as long as I kept winning races.”

“What does that even mean?”

Lance shrugged. The gesture felt more defeatist than nonchalant.

“Hell if I know. Most I’ve gotten out of it is a decent pay out whenever I actually lost. Which was like, never. So essentially zip. Squat. Nada. I think they just wanted to know that their bets would pay off.”

“Then why are they a problem?”

Lance knew Keith was just trying to understand, but the question seemed so flippant and naïve that Lance couldn’t help but grind his teeth in frustration.

“Because they’re dangerous?? You know what they did to Shiro, right?”

Keith unmistakeably shivered. But Lance wasn’t done yet. Ooooh no, he had to drive his point home.

“They cut his hand off, Keith,” Lance snapped. “Like they literally cut off one of his limbs. They’re not messing around.”

“I know,” Keith snapped back almost immediately. “I know they’re dangerous, Lance. I’m just trying to think of a way out of this situation.”

Lance span the glass in his hand again, catching it at an awkward angle and flailing to catch it before it hit the carpet. Keith plucked it out of his hands, setting it firmly on the end table as he gave Lance a Look™.

Without anything to divert his attention, Lance hesitantly lifted his gaze to meet Keith’s.

“There is no way out of this situation. And besides, Allura’s already said she gonna stop the races soooo… That checks that box I guess. Bye bye big bucks.”

Lance felt a prickle of anxiety run under his skin, and his chest tightened as the words start to sink into his veins. He hated this. He hated talking about it. Talking about things made them real, and Lance so desperately wanted to deal with the situation on his own. That way he could convince himself that it was all part of some horrible inverted dream and that he’d eventually just come out the other side.

But no. Here he was, sitting with a guy who was not renowned for patience, _patiently_ listening to him spill all his dirty little secrets on the floor. And there was no cleaning it up now. There simply wasn’t enough Dettol in the world.

Keith’s gaze weighed heavy on him for a moment before he spoke again.

“You have to tell the others.”

Lance felt himself cringe.

“No.”

“They deserve to know.”

_“No.”_

_“Lance.”_

Lance’s fingers danced across the tops of his thighs, maybe a little harder than necessary. But hey, it was the only thing distracting him from leaping up off the sofa and straight up bolting out the door. ADHD loser that he was. Keith was glaring. Lance knew Keith was glaring, even if he wasn’t looking at him. He could _feel_ it, that glare. And even though he knew that Keith’s anger was directed at the Galra, he knew he was partially responsible. The thought made him squirm uncomfortably, suddenly feeling too hot in his own skin. He didn’t like being the source of Keith’s unhappiness.

As if sensing Lance’s uneasiness, Keith stood up and padded over to him, sinking down onto the sofa. Quietly, he took one of Lance’s restless hands, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin of Lance’s knuckles. Lance released a sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding, subconsciously leaning a little closer to Keith as he exhaled.

“They’re your friends,” Keith murmured. “It’s okay to ask them for help.”

Lance chuckled, turning his face into Keith’s shoulder.

“When did you become Yoda?”

“Who?”

Lance gasped.

“I am personally offended by that comment. Who the fuck doesn’t know Yoda?”

Keith brought his other hand up the stroke the soft hair behind Lance’s ears, his body moving on it’s own to accommodate the other boy’s weight. He pressed a soft kiss to the taller boy’s temple, and his heart did a happy little flip when Lance sighed blissfully in response.

Lance yawned as he sank a little lower into Keith’s embrace. He suddenly felt exhausted. As if he’d been carrying around a huge boulder on his back for the last few months, he’d simply become accustomed to its weight. And now someone had lifted the load and allowed him to realise just how heavy it was.

“Tired?” Keith rumbled.

“Mm.”

Lance could hear Keith’s voice through his chest, low and husky. Normally he’d cling to every word, but tonight it was doing nothing to keep him awake.

“Can’t believe I have to drive tonight.”

As if on cue, Lance phone buzzed. He yanked it out of his jacket pocket before releasing a loud groan.

“Scratch that. Allura’s postponed the race til tomorrow.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” Keith mused. “I think you’re too tired to drive right now.”

“Still gotta drive home though.”

Keith stilled for a moment. Lance could hear the other boy’s heartbeat kick off in his chest, and anticipation hummed in his veins.

“You could… Always stay here. If you wanted.”

Keith said it so quietly, Lance wasn’t sure he’d even said it at all. He drew back slowly to see Keith glaring at the carpet, successfully hiding most of his eyes behind his bangs.

“I-er…”

Keith’s shoulders crept up towards his shoulders and… Was he? -Yep, he was totally blushing.

“I think I’d like that.”

Keith actually grinned. Like that is an actual thing that happened. Not one of his (totally adorable) close-lipped smirks or anything. Nope this was a full on grin. And Lance was soooo not prepared. He almost chewed through his own lip he was biting it so hard to keep from yelling incoherently.

Keith rose from the sofa, grabbing Lance’s glass as he headed towards the kitchen.

“Ummm, my room’s just down the hall,” he said unsurely.

The was a flicker of nervousness in his voice, and Lance took solace in knowing he wasn’t the only one internally writhing like an earthworm. Lovely as that image was.

Lance nodded mutely in response as Keith disappeared into the kitchen, rising to his feet and sloping off down the hallway.

Keith’s bedroom was… Bizarrely not what Lance had expected?

It was a pretty standard layout. Wardrobe one side, bed the other. A desk with a- Holy shit was that a _lava lamp???_

Lance snickered loudly. He was seriously gonna have to educate his boyfriend on interior decorating. Other than that, the room was actually less tidy than he’d been expecting. Lance had been prepared for a pristine clean-cut polish, but noooope. No, there were clothes flung over the chair, and the desk was littered with papers. The corkboard above it even worse. It looked like something out of a bad CSI show.

Whatever, so Keith was a conspiracy nerd or something. Chalk it up to the list of things Lance found weirdly endearing.

Without dwelling further, Lance began pulling his clothes off, folding them neatly and stacking them beside the wardrobe until he was just down to his boxers. Then he stood there for a second, slightly unsure of how to proceed. Was he supposed to get into bed without Keith there? Should he just stand there like a creep, staring at the bed until Keith’s arrived?

It turned out to be the latter since Lance heard a sharp intake of breath behind him and spun round to see Keith staring at him. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open as his gaze swept over Lance’s body.

Lance felt a warm rush rolls under his skin, self consciousness slinking into the back of his mind, telling him to cover up.

Keith span around, cutting off all eye contact.

“You just got undressed in my room??”

Lance started.

“Well, yeah? I wasn’t going to sleep in my jeans.”

“But-But you could have! You could’ve _asked?_ ”

“For what? Pyjamas?”

“No I mean-“

“What’re you sleeping in?”

Lance interrupted. Keith was still very determinedly facing away from him, and it honestly wasn’t doing wonders for Lance’s self esteem.

“Boxers,” Keith muttered after a moment.

“Cool. That’s what I’m wearing. I mean, I usually sleep nude but I didn’t want you to think that I was trying to- I mean, not that I don’t want to. I just mean, er, if you didn’t want to I didn’t want you to think that I was trying to be pushy and stuff?”

“It’s okay!” Keith squeaked.

Wow, okay. Lance didn’t think he’d ever heard the other boy’s voice go that high before.

“I just… Wasn’t ready?”

Lance chuckled.

“Well, are you ready now?”

Keith nodded imperceptibly. Slowly, he began turning back around to face Lance. When he’d turned fully, his eyes didn’t waste time in raking over Lance’s body. Down his abdomen, over his toned legs, and back up to-

Well.

Keith’s eyes couldn’t help but linger a little too long on his boyfriend’s crotch, and he involuntarily gulped. He was about to say something when Lance yawned widely, his arms stretching up over his head like a cartoon gesture.

Keith shook himself out of his staring match with Lance’s boxers and smiled. Deftly, he pulled his own clothes off, leaving them in a pile under his feet. Lance frowned at them but didn’t comment. Neat freak.

“C’mon,” Keith mumbled, reaching out a hand that Lance took.

Keith pulled both of them down into the bed, tugging the duvet up over his shoulders. They lay down facing each other, Lance’s arm slung over Keith’s waist as their fingers played together. Lance was entranced by Keith’s eyes. Their deep colour swallowed him whole, plunging him into an indigo world of safety and warmth. He brought Keith’s fingers to his lips, kissing each one in turn before leaning across the small space between them and kissing Keith’s lips too. Keith hummed, his eyes remaining closed as Lance pulled away.

“Big spoon or little spoon?”

“Hm?”

“Are you a big spoon or a little spoon?”

“I’m a knife.”

Lance barked out a short laugh, squeezing Keith’s waist a little tighter.

“You’ve been talking to Leo too much.”

“He keeps sending me rare pepe pictures.”

“At least he hasn’t sent you any of Dat Boi yet.”

“Oh he did, like yesterday.”

Lance’s grin was illuminating in the darkness, and Keith really hoped the other boy couldn’t see his blush. Dammit, Lance!

“Alright, babe, c’mere.”

Lance kinda shoved Keith whilst scooting closer to him, essentially almost flipping the other boy. Not that Keith minded that much, even if he did let out a small squawk of protest. Lance curled around Keith like a second skin, the extra inch or two he had allowing him to curl his legs up until Keith was almost in the foetal position, chest pressed against his back. Lance would be lying if he said the skin on skin contact didn't sent thrills shooting up his nerves like firecrackers, but tiredness was settling over him like a fog and Lance couldn't fight it any longer. Keith shivered as Lance pressed lazy kisses to the nape of his neck, and he twined their fingers together possessively.

“Babe?”

“Yeah, is that okay?”

Keith hummed for a second. His eyes felt leaden, and there was no stopping them drooping now that he was wrapped up in Lance’s arms.

“Yeah I like that.”

He could feel Lance’s lips against his skin curve into a smirk.

“Night babe.”

“Night Lance.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments!!!
> 
> seriously I get even one nd i cRY for like 45 years evrytiem


	16. A message from Allura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith spend the morning together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yessss! My babies finally getting some! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧   
> Even if it's just a taste ;)

Keith woke first.

He was hot. God, Lance was like a furnace. One of his long arms was looped loosely around Keith’s wait, the other one nestled under his neck, drawing them together. The skin of Lance’s chest felt warm and faintly sticky against Keith’s back, and Keith rolled a little in an attempt to let some air between them.

Lance made a soft noise of protest and curled his arms tighter around Keith, refusing to let go.

Keith would’ve found it endearing, if he wasn’t about to boil alive.

Fine, if getting away from Lance was out of the question, Keith would find another way to cool off. He wriggled his legs as far away from Lance’s body as he could, kicking out towards the edge of the bed. It was no good.

They’d fallen asleep in the middle of the bed, Lance wrapped around Keith like an octopus, and the covers had shifted with them as well. The duvet had turned to lie askew over their bodies, making one of the points fall over the edge of the mattress, thus making it impossible for Keith to stick one leg out from under it.

After a minute of futile struggle (as much as Keith dared to without waking Lance), he was sure he would evaporate with how hot he was.

Turns out it was all in vain. Keith’s incessant wriggling had woken Lance, and the taller boy grumbled as he regained consciousness.

“Lance?”

“Morning, beautiful,” Lance mumbled groggily.

His voice was thick with sleep as he pressed a tender kiss to Keith’s shoulder. Keith didn’t think he could go up in degrees anymore, but Lance found a way to prove him wrong.

“Lance,” Keith said a little louder. “I’m so fucking hot, can you please let go of me?”

“No,” Lance replied.

He did, however, mercifully release his grip on Keith to pull the duvet half way down their bodies. Keith sighed as cool air washed over him, and he came back from boiling to a gentle simmer.

“Better?” Lance asked as he continued to press lazy kisses up the line of Keith’s shoulder to his neck.

“Mm.”

Lance smiled around his kisses, wrapping his arm back around Keith’s waist and squeezing gently.

Keith lay still, letting Lance fully come back to the world of the living before attempting a conversation. After a few minutes, Lance let out a satisfied breath, nuzzling into the crook of Keith’s neck. He pressed a long kiss their absently, pausing to take in the moment when Keith shuddered. Lance froze, arms locked around his boyfriend’s waist. Curiously, he pressed another kiss to Keith’s neck, a little higher up towards his jaw. Keith shuddered again, his body curling in Lance’s arms. Lance felt a wicked grin creep up his face.

“Sensitive?”

“No,” Keith huffed.

Gotcha.

Lance kissed Keith’s neck again, parting his lips to let his teeth graze along the soft skin over Keith’s jugular. The dark haired boy let out a sigh that caught in his throat, resulting in a timid moan. Heat flooded to Lance’s groin, and he involuntarily bit down. Keith let out a strangled cry of surprise, and if Lance wasn’t hard before then he _definitely_ was now.

Doubt suddenly flooded Lance’s mind. What if Keith didn’t want that? What if he wasn’t ready?

As goofy as Lance knew he was, he liked to think that he was pretty mature emotionally. He knew how to sort through his feelings (for the most part), he knew when to back off if someone didn’t want to talk about something, and he absolutely knew that you always ALWAYS had to ask for consent.

He didn’t want Keith thinking that he’d just _assumed_ sex was going to be okay, and there was no way Lance was going to let his traitorous body ruin everything.

Self-consciously, he scrambled backwards, getting as far away from Keith as he could without actually letting him go.

Keith peered at him quizzically from over his shoulder, his bangs sticking up at an awkward angle.

“What are you doing?”

“NOTHING!”

“Well you’re obviously doing something.”

“No I’m obviously not. It is not obvious that I am doing anything. There is nothing to be obvious about, nothing is happening.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he tugged on Lance’s arm around his waist to pull the other boy closer. Lance lay stock still, his body jerking stiffly as he refused to scoot closer. Keith frowned at him before deciding that if Lance wasn’t going to come to him then he would go to Lance. Without warning, Keith dug his feet into the mattress and pushed himself back.

“Keith!” Lance cried out.

Keith ignored him, pushing himself the short space across the bed until he was fully nestled in Lance’s arms again. Lance stayed absolutely still, and Keith felt doubt flicker in his mind until he pushed his hips back and- Aaaaah.

So that’s what the problem was.

Keith half turned his head to see Lance blushing furiously. He was glaring at the pillow his face was buried into, stubbornly avoiding Keith’s eyes.

“Is that what you were worried about?” Keith asked mildly.

“I’m sorry!” Lance blurted.

Keith’s eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t expecting that.

“I’m so sorry!” Lance repeated. “I couldn’t help it. You looked so cute and then I bit your neck and you made this noise and I just automatically started thinking with my dick and I know we haven’t talked about that stuff yet and I didn’t want you to think- _Mmph!_ ”

Lance was cut off by Keith twisting in his arms to silence him with a rough kiss. He tensed for a second until Keith’s fingers rose up to brush against his jaw, and he melted into the feeling of Keith’s lips against his.

“It’s too early for that many words,” Keith murmured when he pulled away.

Lance bit his lip nervously.

This was new territory. And the way Keith was looking at him, god DAMN. He was doing that deliberately. Keith seemed cooler now without the duvet but Lance could feel his entire body heating up.

Somewhat hesitantly, Lance leaned forward again to catch Keith’s lips with his own. Keith let out a growl, grabbing Lance’s face to kiss him harder. Lance’s gasped in surprise as Keith rolled over him, straddling Lance’s hips with his legs. Keith pulled back to watch Lance’s face as he very pointedly ground his hips down. Lance moaned loudly and quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. Keith chuckled, reaching up to tug Lance’s hand away, kissing him chastely until he relaxed. Lance’s hands hovered uselessly, unsure of where to put them when Keith reached over to grab his wrists loosely and guide them to his hips. Lance rubbed his thumbs lovingly over the soft fat at Keith’s hips, skimming over the sharp jut of his hipbone. Loving it when Keith sighed in response.

Lance brought one hand up to curl his fingers in the soft curls at the nape of Keith’s neck. He tugged gently and Keith moaned, answering the silent question by lifting his head to expose his throat. Lance wasted no time in lifting his head to bring his mouth to the flushed skin of Keith’s neck. He peppered kisses over Keith’s jugular, up his jaw, behind his ear, before sucking Keith’s earlobe into his mouth and _biting._ Keith’s cry was broken, and he curled his head into Lance’s shoulder.

 _“Fuck,_ Lance…” he breathed.

Lance smiled smugly to himself, having successfully gained the upper hand.

Not that it was a competition. Lance was totally winning though. At least he told himself until Keith seemed to have the exact same thought and immediately pushed back.

The look in his indigo eyes was fierce, and Lance was equally terrified and excited. Keith swooped down to bite Lance’s collarbone. The taller boy yelped in surprise, peeking down at Keith to see the other boy grinning wickedly at him. And okay, that was weirdly hot. Keith trailed kisses down Lance’s chest, his hands roaming the areas of skin that his mouth was not occupying, stroking tenderly. Lance watched him, belatedly shoving a pillow under his head so as not to strain his neck. It was a mistake. Seeing Keith laving his tongue down the line of Lance’s stomach, eyes closed as he got lost in his ministrations, sent a hot wave of pleasure straight between Lance’s legs, and he had to screw his eyes shut to focus on not coming on the spot. He almost inhaled his tongue when Keith’s fingers brushed hazily over the bulge in his boxers. Lance ripped his hand away from Keith’s hair to bite down on his knuckles so hard he almost drew blood.

Fuck, he felt so amateur. They hadn’t even really started yet and here he was, trying not to come in his pants like a twelve year old over some light kissing.

Okay, some seriously amazing kissing but that wasn’t the point. The sudden absence of Keith’s mouth leaving a wet trail down his skin made Lance open his eyes, and he looked up to see Keith watching him curiously.

“What?” Lance asked intelligibly.

“You’re so _quiet_ ,” Keith observed. He sounded reverent.

“Yeah. Well _you_ try going through puberty when you share a room with four siblings,” Lance shot back as colour flooded his cheeks.

“I think it’s cute,” Keith mumbled, lips pressing back into Lance’s abdomen.

“Well I think _you’re_ cute.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“Yes, and you should be very offended right now.”

Keith’s face split into a bright smile as he laughed, and butterflies erupted in Lance’s stomach. Dammit, did Keith _know_ how beautiful he was when he smiled???

‘Well let me assure you,” Keith rumbled. His ran his fingers up the inside of Lance’s thigh, watching the taller boy carefully as he shivered, a whisper of a moan escaping his parted lips. “I am very…” Keith kissed just below Lance’s belly button. “Very…” his lips grazed over Lance’s hip bone. “Very upset.”

Lance almost bit through his lip when Keith’s teeth sank into the soft flesh of his inner thigh, and his fingers twisted in the sheets as he gripped them desperately.

“ _Keith…”_

Lance had barely felt the warmth of Keith’s lips skimming his clothed erection when the moment was shattered by his ringtone. Lance swore loudly, sitting up and scrambling to reach his phone off the bedside table. Keith sat back on his heels, watching. He didn’t look particularly put out, but the slightly glazed look in his eyes betrayed his stoic facial expression.

Lance checked the caller ID on his phone screen, cursing under his breath.

Trust Allura to cock block him this early in the day. Keith watched as Lance took a deep shuddering breath, steadying his breathing slightly before hitting the answer button.

“Hello?”

Despite his efforts, Lance’s voice was hoarse and scratchy, and he coughed in an attempt to clear his throat.

“Really?!”

Keith decided he didn’t really care what the phone call was about. Lance’s cheeks were flushed, his hair was a mess from sleep and Keith’s fingers, and he looked slightly dazed. As if someone had hit him in the head of he’d been staring at a screen in the dark. Keith crawled forwards, nudging Lance’s knees apart to settle in between his legs. Lance shot him a wild-eyed look. Keith grinned smugly back before pushing Lance back, leaning down to feather kisses up his jawline.

“Ye-yeah okay,” Lance coughed out.

The fingers around his phone were white with tension, and Keith thought that if Lance squeezed the device any harder it would crack in his hand. Lance’s breathing was starting to get erratic, and he swatted at Keith in panic, trying to bat him away. Keith ignored him. Without warning, he curled one hand around the back of Lance’s thigh and hoisted his long leg over his hip. Lance cut off his responding noise by slapping one hand over his mouth.

“ALRIGHT SEE YOU THERE!”

Lance nearly screamed down the receiver before abruptly hanging up and nearly throwing his phone across the room.

“YOU!” he hissed, grabbing Keith’s face with both hands to glare at him. “Are _evil.”_

Keith’s grin was downright wolfish.

“Who was that?” he mumbled against Lance’s lips.

“Shiro. I’ve got to go into work today.”

“Mmm. Do you really have to go?”

Keith punctuated his question with a roll of his hips, really Lance’s cock twitch against his thigh.

“Ye- _ah!-_ Yes, I do.”

Keith pouted, and Lance couldn’t help the bubble of laughter from spilling out of his mouth.

“He also had a message from Allura.”

Keith pulled back to look at Lance. The taller boy’s face was a collage of wariness, unease, relief, and excitement all at once.

“Tonight is the last race.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, it's not that I CAN'T write smut. I mean I'd be an Olympic gold medalist for reading smut, seriously.  
> It's just that I've never written it before and I AM SHY!
> 
> Also, I've decided that this story in going to be 21 chapters plus an epilogue so there's finally an end in sight!!


	17. Barbecue Sauce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm. Now with added BBQ sauce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hnnnnnng I'm so sorry this is late! I'm BIZZAY as I know a lot of other people are but  
> I've just been trying to set everything up for the ending so YA KNOW  
> Also thank you all so much for the kind comments, they're like ambrosia to me like YES feed my ego
> 
> Just a lil warning: There are female pronouns for Pidge in this chapter so if that's a problem for you then you don't have to read! I'll go over the main points of this chapter in the end notes :D

Allura couldn’t help the snicker that escaped her lips at the sight of Lance. The lanky boy was having a damn near religious experience as he moaned around a mouthful of barbeque Hunk had made.

After announcing that the last race was to be that evening, Allura had invited everyone over to have a celebration of sorts. Naturally, Hunk had brought his secret recipe for barbeque marinade and everyone had practically fallen over themselves in an attempt to get to it first. Even Keith didn’t seem to be doing so well himself: After taking one bite of the marinated meat, his eyes had gotten so glittery he looked like something out of a shounen manga. For a second, Allura thought he would cry. That is, until Lance swooped in and stole a kebab skewer right off Keith’s plate. Keith’s eyes had ignited in a fire that could’ve burnt down the whole west coast as he chased Lance around the garden, the symphony of Lance simultaneously screeching and laughing filling the air.

Allura giggled to herself, trying to hide her amusement behind one daintily raised hand.

“Whatcha think’s so funny, Allura?” Coran asked, his head popping up by her shoulder.

“Oh Coran!” Allura gasped between giggles. “I just think it’s so funny that when those two met, they really wanted to kill each other.”

Coran squinted at the two boys. Lance was hiding behind Hunk, using the larger male’s mass as a shield. Keith was doing his best to dodge around as Hunk desperately tried to broker a peace.

“I don’t know. I’m fairly certain they still do,” Coran hummed.

“No, look!” Allura promised.

She put a hand on Coran’s shoulder, pulling him forwards to get a better view as Keith somehow swerved around Hunk. Lance let out a fearful squeal as Keith leapt at him, scrambling sideways in an attempt to evade the dark-haired boy’s reach. Keith’s arms latched around Lance’s waist, effectively tackling the taller boy, and the pair went tumbling into a tangle of limbs on the ground. Coran let out a soft grunt of surprise, moving to take a step to help. Allura’s hand on his shoulder stilled the man, and he peered at her curiously.

“Watch,” Allura murmured.

A small smile played on her lips. Coran followed her line of sight and watched as Keith sat up on Lance, his face twisted with fury and triumph. Pidge barely looked up from scrolling through her phone, acknowledging the scene before her with a dismissive snort. Coran was certain that Keith was about forcefully remove a few of Lance’s teeth with his knuckles. Though after a few seconds of both boys breathing hard, Keith’s expression melted into a warm smile. He climbed to his feet, reaching out a hand to help Lance up. Lance let Keith pull him to his feet, using the momentum to step forward a little so that their clasped hands were pressed in between their chests. His eyes sparkled as he reached up with his free hand to brush a few bangs out of Keith’s eyes. Lance’s smile was so tender that Coran felt himself suck in a breath.

Allura chuckled to his side.

“See?” she said smugly.

“Well I guess you were right, Princess. They really do seem to be getting along better.”

“It’s more than that,” Allura continued. “And don’t call me ‘Princess’.”

Her smile stretched a little farther up her face.

“Can’t you see how madly in love they are?”

Coran snorted at that, attracting a raised eyebrow from Shiro.

“Talented as you are, I don’t think even you could push it that far, Allura.”

Allura shot Coran a disapproving look.

“I don’t have to push it. It happened all on it’s own.”

Coran remained sceptical, but turned his attention back to Keith and Lance. The pair were chatting to Hunk, Lance as usual begging for the marinade recipe. He was leaning heavily on Keith, his bony elbow propped up on the shorter boy’s shoulder just barely brushing the long hair that skimmed the collar of his shirt. Keith was smiling as they talked… No… Keith was smiling _at_ Lance. Keith’s face was practically glowing with the soft affection radiating out of his features, and Coran watched dumbstruck as he casually reached out and wrapped a hand around Lance’s hip. Lance didn’t break his sentence midway through, but he did shift a little closer to Keith, subconsciously leaning into the touch. He unhooked his elbow from Keith’s shoulder, letting it drop so that he could weave his fingers into the tips of the longest strands of Keith’s hair.

“Well I’ll be…” Coran muttered to himself.

“It’s kind of gross,” Pidge said.

Coran almost jumped ten feet in the air. He hadn’t heard Pidge come up beside him. She was watching Lance and Keith with a heavy gaze. It was the same sort of expression Pidge got when she couldn’t decipher a code: There was a certain sort of resolve behind her eyes, like she was waiting for something to click into place. Like that thing was right in front of her but she couldn’t yet see the bigger picture.

“The two of them,” Pidge continued, gesturing vaguely in the boys’ direction.

Coran was trying to work out Pidge’s face. There was something lingering in the tightness of her mouth that he had never seen before, and he didn’t know if it was good or bad.

“But… I’m really glad Lance is happy.”

Pidge’s strange expression dissolved into a warm smile, and the tension around Coran’s shoulders immediately lifted.

“Yes. Yes I think he really deserved someone good after… Everything with Nyma,” Coran agreed.

Pidge hummed thoughtfully.

“I’m glad he got out of it before all that Galra stuff came along,” Pidge said suddenly.

Coran started a little. The Galra were a bit of a touchy subject, especially when Shiro was around.

Before he could add anything, Pidge turned on a dime and set off back into the house. Coran watched after her, unable to fully resolve the strange concoction of happiness and wariness that was stirring in his chest.

 

 

“Huuuuunk! _Please!_ I will literally give you my first born child!” Lance pleaded.

Hunk remained unmoved as ever, his face a mask of patience.

“Lance, we’ve been over this. It’s a _secret_ recipe.”

Lance groaned exaggeratedly, slumping onto Keith with his body weight. Keith barely moved, as if Lance’s weight was nothing.

“Keith. Buddy. My guy, Will you please tell Hunk he’s being unreasonable?”

Keith gave Lance a sidelong look, though a smile quirked at the corner of his mouth.

“Are you this whiny about everything?”

Lance looked betrayed. He inhaled dramatically at Keith’s response, pressing one hand over his heart. Keith broke out into a full grin, the light dancing in his navy eyes.

“Betrayal!” Lance hissed.

“Tragic,” Keith replied.

Lance turned back to Hunk, his face contorted into the biggest pout Keith had ever seen. His bottom lip jutted out so far it was a wonder he hadn’t caught it on the grill, and he slumped even further onto Keith’s shoulder.

“Fifteen years, Hunk. Fifteen years we’ve been friends, and you break my heart over a barbeque recipe. That’s shameful. I’m wounded.”

“You’ll live,” Keith muttered.

Lance ignored him. As Hunk listed again why he couldn’t share the recipe, Keith reached out with his free hand to curl it loosely around Lance’s hip. He rubbed his thumb over the sharp ridge of Lance’s hipbone, shifting the hem of his blue shirt out the way. The taller boy shivered slightly at the contact, turning slightly to lean closer to Keith. He dropped his elbow off Keith’s shoulder, and for a second Keith thought he would move away, until he felt the soft brush of Lance’s fingers in the ends of his hair. The back of Keith’s neck tingled with warmth, and a shudder rocked down his spine at the sensation. He looked at Hunk in a belated panic, but Keith’s worry eased when he realised the broader man hadn’t noticed anything (or if he had, he’d mercifully declined to comment).

A nudge at Keith’s arm alerted him to Pidge’s presence.

“Whiskey. Bourbon,” she said shortly, holding out a tumbler glass in front of Keith’s nose.

“Whoa, no you don’t!”

Lance snatched the glass out of Pidge’s hand before Keith’s fingers reached it. The dark haired boy scowled at his boyfriend, and Lance grinned back apologetically.

“Keith is driving tonight, I’m not gonna have him getting drunk before. That would make me an irresponsible boyfriend.”

Pidge scoffed loudly.

“Because you’re the pinnacle of responsibility, Lance.”  
“Well I don’t like to brag,” Lance crowed, brushing his shoulders off for added effect. “But seriously, I don’t want anything bad to happen. We can’t have Keith denting his mullet, he might never recover.”

Keith swatted at Lance, making an uncoordinated swipe for the tumbler. Lance effortlessly held it above his head. Not exactly out of reach, since Keith was barely an inch shorter, but he wasn’t about to make a display of himself by jumping for a beverage. Instead, Keith poked Lance in the ribs, smugness curling his mouth at the small victory when Lance squawked in indignation.

“Aw. And I thought you didn’t like my mullet?” Keith chided.

“So you admit it’s a mullet?”

“Oh _God_ ,” Pidge groaned. “Is this what you two are like in the bedroom?”

Keith shrugged.

“Wouldn’t know.”

Pidge’s face contorted so much that she looked like an Apple Photo Booth filter, bewilderment and pure confusion colouring her features.

“You guys haven’t done anything yet?”

“Uh. No?” Keith answered.

He glanced at Lance, trying to work out if this conversation was stepping into dangerous territory. Lance’s mouth was hanging open slightly, and he looked… Embarrassed really. But more like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar kind of embarrassment rather than embarrassment about the actual topic. His fingers tapped against the whiskey glass in agitation, and he was shifting his weight from foot too foot nervously. It was as if Pidge had stumbled upon his diary, and he was keeping tight-lipped in case of triggering a discussion about his weeb phase.

Pidge looked like she didn’t know whether to scoff or to cackle, a slightly open-mouthed smile frozen on her face.

“What, seriously? How long have you guys been seeing each other? It normally takes Lance, like, a week to get into his partner’s pants? Ten days tops.”

Lance scowled.

“That explains why you’ve been so twitchy lately,” Pidge continued.

“I have ADHD,” Lance deadpanned.

“No, I mean you’ve been really weird,” Pidge replied. “Like evasive at the races and stuff. I was getting worried but clearly it’s just because you haven’t been getting laid. If Keith was a girl you’d have tapped that like three weeks ago.”

“You’re just jealous I have so much game with girls,” Lance crowed, making an action with his hand as if he were flicking hair over his shoulder.

“You say game, I say man-whore,” Pidge retorted. “Have you even talked about who tops?”

“I top,” Lance said at the exact same time Keith said, “Lance bottoms.”

The two boys shared a wide-eyed look, both processing the other’s reply. Lance’s brow furrowed, causing a little pinch in his forehead, and he opened his mouth to speak slowly, clearly enunciating every word.

“Obviously I top.”

Keith blinked. “What do you mean, _‘obviously’_?”

“Okay, _abort_ ,” Pidge hissed. “I mean it. Conversation cancelled. I do not wanna be here for this.”

And with that, Pidge raised her hands in flippant surrender and marched away. Hunk’s chuckle broke both boys out of their weird stare-off.

“Well, whilst you two are figuring that out. More barbeque?”

Lance’s knees almost buckled, and he tottered forwards into Hunk’s chest like a baby deer.

“Hunk. My saviour. All that is good in the world. Give me more of that sweet saucy animal flesh _please_.”

“Do you have to make everything gross?” Hunk asked with a grimace, nonetheless forking more meat onto a plate and handing it to his friend.

“Yes,” Lance answered definitively.

“Yes,” Keith agreed.

“Hey!”

“What? It’s only okay when you say it?”

“ _Obviously_ it’s only okay when I say it!”

“What do you mean, _‘obviously’_?”

“Alright!” Hunk spoke up. “I’m gonna very subtly step out of this lover’s tiff you’re having. Do you see this? This is me being very subtle about leaving. Subtly.”

Hunk placed the barbeque tongs down as he spoke, shimmying past the couple like something out of a mission impossible movie. As soon as he was out of earshot, Keith rounded on Lance.

“So. Ten days, huh?”

Lance chewed his lip as he frowned, looking for the entire world like a lost puppy. Keith wanted to reach out and pull Lance closer to him again. To lean in and whisper filthy things in his ear, watching as his boyfriend’s ears would turn pink and he’d fumble like the insanely cute dork that he was. It made Keith’s chest feel all tight and tingly, and he had to suppress a smile.

“Yeah well. If it’s what we both want it’s not a problem,” Lance mumbled. He looked incredibly sheepish.

Keith clicked his tongue. “Does that make me special then?”

Lance looked away, his fingers drumming rapidly against the glass tumbler still in his hand. Keith reached out deftly and tugged the glass away from him, placing it on the arm of one of Allura’s old deck chairs.

“I just… Don’t wanna rush things with you,” Lance muttered.

He still hadn’t looked up, so Keith took a step forward, taking a pinch of Lance’s shirt between his fingers and giving it a gentle pull. It was more to get Lance’s attention than anything else, but the taller boy took a step forward as well, closing the short distance between them. Lance’s hand found it’s way to Keith’s hip, and he wrapped his fingers loosely around the juncture between Keith’s belt and his shirt.

“Are you asking me to go steady?” Keith murmured.

Lance’s cheeks had turned so red they almost looked violet, and his fingers now drummed quick-fire against Keith’s hip.

“Don’t be a jackass.”

“I’m not trying to be.”

Keith’s teasing eased into something cooler, something more serious. Lance suddenly felt terrified. He didn’t want to fuck up and say the wrong thing, but he also knew he was a long-standing participant of the Foot-In-Mouth Club, Junior League Gold Membership.

“I just don’t want to pressure you. I know we haven’t really talked about that stuff yet.”

Keith gave Lance a heart-stoppingly affectionate look and the taller boy felt his tummy do a happy little somersault.

“You’re not pressuring me, Lance,” he whispered. “I want to do that stuff with you.”

Lance was at a complete loss for words. He couldn’t even cough out a retort to Keith’s expression of complete shit-eating smugness.

“Tell you what,” Keith started, unperturbed but Lance’s tongue-tied-ness. “We still have a little time before the race tonight. Why don’t you come back to mine and we can… Talk?”

Lance finally found his voice, though when he spoke it came out a little more hoarse then he’d intended.

“Sure. Talk. Because you already know I can walk the walk.”

“Whatever you say, smartass. Time to put your money where your mouth is.”

“You just wanna know where my mouth is going.”

“Well yeah, if it’s concerning me.”

Lance had a wicked glint in his eye, and a thrill of excitement crackled under Keith’s skin with anticipation.

“I bet you don’t last two minutes.”

Keith snorted.

“I bet you don’t last one.”

“Oh well challenge accepted, cariño,” Lance shot back with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Keith rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Is everything a contest with you?”

Lance leaned in, curling his arm around Keith’s waist a he dipped to breath in his ear.

“Trust me. You’ll know when I’ve won.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so for those who skipped:  
> -Allura tells Coran that Lance and Keith are gaga for each other  
> -Pidge is worried about Lance's twitchiness  
> -Lance STILL hadn't gotten the secret barbecue marinade recipe (it's okay baby the answer's right in front of you)  
> -Pidge remarks on the fact that Lance and Keith haven't slept together yet.  
> -Lance confesses that he wants to take things slow because he doesn't wanna fuck up  
> -So naturally Keith invited him over before the race (ayyyyy)
> 
> ALRIGHT SO there's gonna be smut in the next chapter. I've psyched myself up to write it. I am a (mature?????) adult. I can totally write about two consenting adults taking their clothes off and getting weird with each other.  
> Thank you all again for your support and I hope you continue to enjoy my lil fic! xx


	18. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just pure smut so yup  
> the babies finally get some

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I am blushing terribly hard behind my computer screen it is DIFFICULT FOR ME to sin in front of others. I do that in the private confines of my room where I'm the only person who can judge me so
> 
> Thank you commenters for the pro tips on writing smut. They were...er... very helpful
> 
> Also this may not be a bad thing, but I kinda over-projected on the start of this chapter? I think it is SUPER IMPORTANT to talk to your partner about intimate stuff. You're both adults, you can say what you like and don't like and it is VERY IMPORTANT. Seriously, go learn what you partner likes and what they don't i cannot stress this enough. I feel VERY STRONGLY about it.
> 
> Okay rant over. Enjoy the smut! <3

If you had told Lance three weeks ago that he would very soon be finding himself sitting in Keith’s living room, waiting for one of them to make a move, he would have laughed in your face. He’d have made a big show of it too, throwing his head back, wiping tears from his eyes, probably even chucking a pointing finger in there somewhere. All to add to the effect that you were a complete and utter idiot, and that your suggestion was funnier than Shiro’s first attempt at eyeliner wings.

As it was, here sat Lance on Keith’s minimalist grey sofa, his fingers drumming against his knee so rapidly it was a wonder they hadn’t worn through his jeans. Water droplets clung stubbornly to the tips of his from where he’d just showered, though Lance suspected it could also be nervous sweat beading at the back of his neck. He could hear Keith bustling about in the adjoining kitchen, pulling glasses from the cupboard to fetch them both some water.

A million and one scenarios were running through Lance’s mind about what would happen when Keith inevitably emerged into the living room.

Would he want to talk for long? Maybe he didn’t want to do anything tonight and he’d rather just go over every plausible sex position and how they could do it in painfully, graphically descriptive detail. Lance didn’t know if he could do that. Sure, he’d talked to partners about sex before, but they’d all been female. With guys he’d only ever gotten to second or third base, never the home run. And even then, they hadn’t really talked about it, things had just sort of progressed that way naturally. It didn’t help that Lance’s ratio of sexual experiences with girls and guys stood at a solid 4:1 ratio… Or something close to that anyway…

Or maybe Keith wouldn’t want to talk at all?

What if he wanted to get down to it right away? Perhaps the whole “just getting a glass of water from the kitchen” was a complete ruse and he was going to jump Lance the second he sat down on the sofa. Lance knew Keith could be impulsive. How do you casually break it to your hot-headed boyfriend in between furious kisses that he’d technically be your first guy?

Lance’s thoughts were interrupted by the soft clink of water glasses hitting the coffee table, and he sat bolt upright as Keith sank down onto the sofa next to him.

“So…” Keith began.

“SO!” Lance shouted. He immediately clapped his hand over his mouth, staring at Keith in wide-eyed embarrassment.

Oh god, he’d said one word and already fucked this whole thing up. Lance was about to make the biggest break of his life towards the door of Keith’s apartment, when the other boy’s face softened into an affectionate half smile.

“Are you okay?”

Lance released his hand from his mouth, letting out a shaky breath.

“I… Yeah. Yes. I’m fine.”

“Sure? You seem nervous.”

Any other time, Lance would glare at Keith for suggesting that he, of all people, was getting nervous about sex. As it was, Keith was completely right, and he probably knew it too. Lance knew that Keith knew he was right.

“A little, yeah…” Lance conceded.

Keith rested his hand lightly on Lance’s knee, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.

“It’s okay, Lance. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I do though!” Lance said immediately.

Keith’s eyebrows rose a few millimetres at his enthusiasm.

“It’s just…”

Lance’s fingers were going wild, drumming against the ridge of the sofa, and his eyes darted anxiously about the room.

“Just what?”

“Well you see… I’m kinda- I’m like-“

“Are you a virgin?”

Keith asked the question suddenly, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. He gazed at Lance with wide eyes, a strange sort of new tenderness creeping into the edges of his expression.

“No I’m not,” Lance said, and Keith’s eyes drew back to their original size. “I mean, sorta?”

Keith frowned at him, but didn’t interrupt. Lance ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Gaaaah, Keith was being so sweet and patient, which was so NOT LIKE KEITH that Lance felt he was being a complete ass. He just couldn’t get the words to form the right way in his head, and so they came spilling out of his mouth in a tangle of bad grammar and half descriptions.

“Aaaaah it’s just like! I’m not a virgin but I haven’t- Not with a guy. I mean, I’ve done _some_ stuff with guys, but not _that stuff._ Just like, some of that stuff, but not really-“

“You’ve never gone all the way,” Keith cut him off.

Lance breathed a heavy sigh of relief at the interruption, nodding. He sent Keith a grateful smile that made the other boy chuckle.

“How far have you gone?”

“Just blowjobs and stuff, nothing more than that,” Lance mumbled.

He suddenly felt weirdly inexperienced. Like a sapling plated in front of a wise old oak tree ( _or poke-tree,_ Lance thought harharr).

“How much more stuff do you know about?” Keith asked, giving Lance’s knee a gentle squeeze.

“Uggggh, are we really doing this?” Lance groaned, flopping forward. “What are you gonna ask me next? Do I know where the prostate is?”

“ _Do_ you kn-“

 _“Yes of course I know where it is!”_ Lance hissed.

This time, Keith let out a full laugh, and if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing Lance had heard all day. God, Keith looked cute when he laughed. His shoulders shook in a way that made his long hair filter around his face, and his smile was so damn pretty that Lance felt he’d had the wind knocked out of him. No seriously, he wanted to take a second to just lie on the ground until he came back to him self.

“I know about all that other stuff,” Lance continued. “I mean. I’ve watched _a lot_ of porn. And yeah, I know it’s all exaggerated, but they at least know their anatomy pretty well so I think I know what I’m doing?” He hadn’t meant to make it sound like a question, but Lance’s bountiful confidence had all but evaporated in the face of Keith.

“Ah,” Keith put shortly.

Lance glanced up at the shift in his boyfriend’s demeanour. Keith looked like he was having a hard time choosing his next words.

“That does sort of bring us on to the next issue…”

“Issue?” Lance enquired. He didn’t mean to sound so panicked, but he couldn’t help his voice hiking up a few octaves at Keith’s suddenly grave expression. “What issue??”

“Who tops.”

“Oh.”

Lance felt like he’d swallowed sandpaper. His throat constricted painfully as blood rushed to his cheeks.

“I-I mean. I think maybe…? But if you don’t want to, then I guess I could- But I don’t know if I want- you know? Like, what if something bad happens or I hurt you, or you hurt me and everything just-“

Lance is rambling. He knows he’s rambling but he can’t stop. His nerves feel like they’re clawing their way up his throat and spilling out of his mouth faster than he can even make sense of them. A hand cupping his face stills Lance into silence, and he lets Keith tilt his chin so that they’re looking at each other.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, I promise,” Keith says gently, but firmly.

Lance can hear the sincerity in his voice, and honestly that’s what does it. He trusts Keith, he decides. Right then and there, Lance truly believes that Keith isn’t pushing him, and he isn’t asking him for anything, and he won’t do anything if Lance doesn’t feel ready. The thought makes him feel a little dizzy with the overwhelming sense of security and _love_ and- Oh shit!

“I think… I do want to,” Lance murmurs, the thought swirling in his mind.

“You think?” Keith asks.

Lance swallows, trying to loosen the tightness if his throat a little.

“I know,” he says after a second.

Lance gives Keith a firm nod, not missing how the other boy’s eyes glint with a renewed hunger. Keith is leaning forward slightly; the fingers under Lance’s chin almost imperceptibly pulling them closer together. Lance can smell the lingering tang of barbeque on his breath, the leathery sort of musk from Keith’s jacket that has pretty much soaked into his skin at this point. Lance doesn’t even notice he’s reached forward until he feels himself tangle his fingers into the inky silk of Keith’s hair. They’re creeping towards each other, like glaciers over the ocean, and Lance sees Keith’s eyelids flicker close. As soon as the overhead light sparkles off that last glint of indigo, their entire talk comes flooding back to Lance with a fresh wave of rolling fear.

“Just, maybe not tonight?” Lance backpedals frantically.

Keith’s eyes snap open, and he shifts back to look at Lance curiously. Lance sees recognition filter across Keith’s features, and his startled expressions melts into something soft and gooey that makes Lance’s heart do a happy little somersault.

“We don’t have to do that tonight,” Keith agrees.

His fingers haven’t left Lance’s face, and they snake around to the back of the tan boy’s neck to give a gentle tug. It’s not a command. It’s a question. And Lance answers by leaning forward to capture Keith’s lips.

Keith lets out a sigh as Lance scoots forward, deepening the kiss. He lets his hands wander down Lance’s back, over the sharp blades of his shoulders, over his tiny waist, to loop around his torso and pull Lance flush against him. Lance lets out a startled noise, eyes fluttering open for a second, but Keith gives him a squeeze around the middle and he relaxes into the embrace. His fingers tangle in the short tips of Lance’s hair, feeling the lingering moisture on them.

It’s a slightly awkward angle, and after a few seconds, Keith growls with frustration. He pushes himself forward, one foot on the floor, one lifting so he can place his knee on the sofa to manoeuvre himself. He pushes Lance back onto the cushions, refusing to break the kiss, and nudges the other boy’s knees apart to settle between them. Lance makes a noise in the back of his throat as Keith’s weight presses onto him, and he nips playfully at his boyfriend’s lips to show his excitement at he new territory. Keith pulled back long enough to shoot Lance a grin, and Lance’s breath hitched when Keith’s deep navy eyes connected with his own, burning in their intensity. It sent a searing wash of desire straight between Lance’s legs, and his knees jolted slightly at the ferocity of his arousal.

“U-uh-“ Lance gasped slightly.

There was no way Keith couldn’t feel the erection pressed insistently against his inner thigh. Lance squirmed a little under Keith’s weight, unsure of what was happening.

“Hm?”

Keith dipped his head to brush his lips against Lance’s, watching the way the taller boy’s eyelids flickered with pleasure. Experimentally, Keith rolled his hips. The effect was instantaneous.

Lance sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth, twisting his head to press his face into the sofa cushion. Keith took the opportunity to feather kisses down Lance’s exposed neck, pausing to swipe his tongue over Lance’s pulse and suck. Lance let out another short gasp, his jaw snapping shut over the noise as he ground his teeth.

“Okay?” Keith mumbled against his boyfriend’s jugular.

God Lance’s skin was beautiful. Brown and supple and so pliant under his teeth. Keith wanted to kiss every centimetre of it, to mark a path down his throat to the constellations of freckles across his shoulders and lower.

“Ye-yeah. Yeah definitely okay,” Lance huffed out.

Keith rolled his hips again, and Lance bit down on his lip with a barely concealed whimper. He reflexively bucked his hips up into the motion, and this time it was Keith’s turn to moan. He buried his face in the crook of Lance’s neck, breathing out a throaty moan that made Lance squirm.

“Fuck- Keith!”

Lance gasped, instinctively curling his fingers into Keith’s hair close to the scalp and holding it tightly. Not enough to pull Keith’s head away, but enough for him to feel the pull at the roots.

The sensation sent a heady spike of lust spiralling downwards, and when Keith rolled his hips again both boys shuddered at the sensation. He caught Lance’s lips in a hungry kiss, failing to keep the growl out of his throat as Lance’s hands slipped under his shirt to roam over his back. Keith nearly lost it when Lance dug his fingernails in at the same time his tongue darted out, brushing Keith’s lightly. His head span at the dual sensations that swirled together with his building arousal, and his cock strained almost painfully against his jeans until Keith’s couldn’t take it anymore.

“Lance-“ Keith gasped, breaking the kiss breathlessly. “I want to touch you…”

Lance was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling under Keith’s, and his eyes went a little glazed as he processed Keith’s words. He swallowed in anticipation before nodding eagerly. Keith hesitated, bracing his weight on his arms to get a proper look at Lance’s expression. Sensing his trepidation, Lance let out a trembling word.

“Yes!”

Happy with the confirmation, Keith slipped a hand between their two bodies, crushed against one another, to gently palm over the bulge in Lance’s jeans. Lance let out a stuttering sigh, his eyelids flickering as his head fell back.

“We’re moving,” Keith said suddenly.

Lance’s eyes blew wide as Keith’s weight left his body, along with the hand that had been touching him, and Lance whined at the loss of friction.

“Where are we going?” he asked thickly.

Fuck. Even to himself, Lance sounded a little star struck.

“Bedroom,” Keith grunted, reaching out a hand to help Lance up.

“What? NO!” Lance almost shouted.

Keith’s hand stopped in mid-air, and Lance watched in horror as cautiousness crept into his sharp features. The fire in Keith’s navy eyes was rapidly waning into nothing more than a dim flicker, and Lance suddenly felt desperate.

“We don’t have to-“

“Do anything I don’t wanna do yeah yea I know,” Lance huffed out quickly. “That’s not what I meant.”

Keith opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Trepidation warped his face into a mix of confusion and worry, and Lance caught his wrist before the other boy could do so much as even _think_ of moving away. That would be a complete crime.

“S’too far,” Lance mumbled.

And it was the truth. Lance genuinely didn’t think he’d be able to stand up long enough to waddle down the hall to Keith’s bedroom. Not when his legs feel like jelly and a hot ache coils in his stomach.

Comprehension glimmered in Keith’s eyes, and he sank back down onto the sofa a little. After a second of gazing round the room, he gently tugged Lance towards the floor.

“Here,” he whispered.

And Lance complied, slipping off the sofa gracelessly into the small strip of floor between the leather and the coffee table. Keith watched him lie back, his eyes waltzing lazily down the expanse of his body. Reaching out, Keith fingers the hem of Lance’s grey shirt, frowning in a way that should not be as cute as it is, a little pinch forming between his dark brows.

“Off,” he commands. Lance obeys wordlessly, slipping the garment over his head with a flick of his wrist. Later he’s in awe that he managed to do so without getting tangled up in the folds and making a complete fool of himself. When he looks up he realises that Keith has done the same, his shirt balled into his fist before he chucks it across the room without so much as a glance.

“I didn’t want you to feel self-conscious,” Keith explains when Lance quirks his eyebrow in questions and oh.

That’s… Surprisingly sweet.

Lance doesn’t have long to dwell on the thought though because the fire in Keith’s eyes is back, and there’s fresh desire dancing amongst the silver flecks in his eyes. Lance can’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed. Not when Keith is looking like he might devour him inch by inch.

Keith presses gently against Lance’s abdomen, encouraging to lie back before settling his weight between his legs again. He sinks his weight down again, slanting their lips together as Lance weaves a hand back into his hair. Dammit, Lance was an _amazing_ kisser. When Keith’s hands skim down the skin taught over Lance’s ribs, the tan boy actually _moans_ into his mouth. It takes all Keith’s willpower to chase away the threatening heat boiling in his gut, and he distracts himself by moving away from Lance’s lips to pepper kisses down his neck and over his collarbone.

Lance’s head falls back against the carpet with a dull thud, and his breathing hitches as Keith kisses across his chest, licking over one of his pert nipples before biting down. Lance lets out a choked noise, his hand flying up to his face to cut it off.

Keith chances a peek up at Lance chewing on his knuckle and can’t help the warmth from tingling under his skin. He looks so good like this, Keith decides. Shirtless and breathing hard and wanting. But more than that it’s the _noises._ Keith had expected a loud-mouthed guy like Lance to be nothing short of a screamer. But as Lance had said; he’d gone through puberty sharing a room with four other siblings. All his verbal cries of pleasure were soft whimpers and bitten-off moans. It’s adorable, and suddenly Keith wants to hear more. He wants to work Lance into frenzy. Wants to tease him until he’s a roiling garbled _shouting_ mess before he finally fucks him hard enough to make Lance forget his own name. It’s that primal hunger that has Keith pawing frantically at Lance’s belt as he trails his tongue over his abdomen. Lance helps him undo the buckle, shimmying his jeans down his hips. He thinks Keith is going to leave them there, bunched around his knees, but the other boy leans back and pulls them swiftly off Lance’s legs. Lance steps his ankles apart slightly, giving Keith what he thinks is enough room until the dark haired boy put his hand on Lance’s knee and effectively spreads his legs. Lance stifles the yelp that hikes up his throat because he doesn’t want to startle Keith. Fuck, he doesn’t want to do anything that might ruin this moment.

Keith spares one last glance up at Lance, those inky dark eyes making the taller boy shiver, before he swoops down and mouths Lance's erection through his boxers.

Lance hiccups out a startled cry, turning a furious red when Keith grins wolfishly up at him. He can feel precum already beading at the head of his cock, and he knows he’s probably already damp through his boxers. Keith hooked his thumbs under the waistband of Lance’s boxers and tugs them down without preamble. Lance gasps as his erection springs free, cool air brushing the tip and making him feel horribly exposed. What’s worse is that Keith is staring at his member with a completely unreadable wide-eyed expression, and Lance props himself up on his elbows to get a better look at the holdup.

“H-hey…” Lance stutters. “Don’t stare, it’s-“

His next words are choked off as Keith gently wraps his hand around Lance’s length, giving him a few soft strokes. Lance’s lip is swollen from how hard he’s biting it. Before he’s even adjusted, Keith leans forward and tenderly swipes his tongue across the flushed dark tip.

Lance practically exhales a lung, his head dropping back as Keith suckles at him, his tongue brushing tentatively against his swollen glans.

“Okay?” Keith whispers, so quietly Lance barely hears it.

 _“Fuck!”_ Lance grits out. “YES! Fucking yes, okay. Keith, _please!”_

Keith does him the small mercy of not teasing Lance about his desperation. Instead, he takes the base of Lance’s cock in his hand before dropping his entire head, taking as much of Lance in his mouth as he can.

The taller boy let’s out a strangled uninhibited moan, his elbows finally giving out as he drops back to the carpet with a thud. Keith pulls back, swirling his tongue around the head as he drags his fingers up to meet his lips before pushing back down. He quietly finds a rhythm, settling one hand on Lance’s hip to still the other boy’s involuntary thrusts. Lance doesn’t think Keith’s ministrations can get any better until Keith take Lance all the way into his mouth, the sensitive tip of Lance’s cock brushing the back of his throat and _swallows._

Lance cries out, biting down on his knuckles hard enough to draw blood. The feel of Keith’s throat rippling and constricting around him sets every nerve on fire, electricity crackling through him like a closed circuit about to overload. Lance hands shoots to Keith head, grabbing a fistful of his hair in warning.

“Keith stop! I’m gonn-“

Keith doesn’t stop. He forcefully yanks Lance’s hand out of his hair, tangling their fingers together as he moans around Lance’s cock. The vibrations that spasm up his shaft paired with the image of Keith, eyes closed and moaning, completely blissed out with his mouth full, sends Lance flying over the edge. He cums in Keith’s mouth with a garbled cry of his name, chest heaving as his hips buck erratically. Keith swallows heavily as his thumb rubs soothing circles into Lance’s hip. And when he finally pulls back, Lance all but swallows his tongue at the sight of Keith, foggy-eyed and panting, the wicked tell tale curl of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Good?” Keith asks breathlessly.

“Fuck,” Lance exhales. “C’mere.”

He grabs Keith’s arm, pulling the other boy flush on top of him as he brings him in for a searing kiss. Lance tongue darts out and Keith is sure he can taste himself, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Lance’s muscles are twitching with the come down, and he deftly squeezes a hand between them to undo Keith’s belt and wander into his pants. It doesn’t take more than a few sharp tugs until Keith buries his face into Lance’s neck with a growl, jerking as hot cum splashes over their abdomens.

They lie there for a few minutes, Lance lazily running his hands through Keith’s hair, Keith pressing absent kisses against the soft skin of Lance’s neck, until he finally breaks the silence.

“That was…”

“Incredible,” Lance breathes, and Keith beams up at him.

“Pee. Shower,” Keith orders, and Lance hops to, pulling them both to their feet.

“Yes sir!” Lance chirps, and Keith does his best to ignore the flicker of interest between his legs at the title.

After they shower, Keith grabs them both fresh glasses of water as Lance checks his phone.

“Anything interesting?” he asks as he hooks his chin over Lance’s shoulder.

“Just Pidge and Hunk arranging race stuff,” Lance answers.

He leans his head into Keith’s, letting his boyfriend kiss his cheek lovingly.

“Have you told them yet?” Keith asks.

It’s meant to be nonchalant. Innocent. But Lance’s shoulders sag and he lets out a weary sigh.

“Not yet,” he admits.

“Lance,” Keith says warningly, unhooking his arms from his boyfriend’s waist. “You have to tell them.”

“I will!” Lance insists, spinning round.

Keith gives him a sceptical look and Lance sighs again.

“I will,” he says earnestly. “I’ll tell them tonight.”

“What do the Galra even do for you?” Keith says sharply.

He can feel his own irritation eeking out at the thought of the violent gang.

Lance shrugs in exasperation.

“I don’t know, Keith? They keep winning bets, I keep all my limbs. Sounds like an okay trade off to me!”

“But you’re in danger of getting into a car accident or of grievous bodily harm. Either way you end up in the hospital. Sounds like lose lose to me.”

Lance runs a hand through his hair, and suddenly Keith realises how tired he looks. There are bags under his eyes, his hair is sticking up at odd angles, and his skin looks dry. Keith hadn’t even noticed how much stress Lance must be under, and he instantly feels like a terrible boyfriend. What had he been doing to help except putting Lance under pressure to expose a secret that he was ashamed of?

Keith rocks forward on his toes to kiss Lance deeply, loving the way the other boy melts into his touch.

“It’s going to be okay,” Keith promises when he pulls away. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Lance looks doubtful so Keith kisses him again.

“I’ll protect you.”

“My knight in shining armour,” Lance snorts.

Keith resists the urge to thwack him in the arm.

“Of course. I- I care about you, Lance.”

Lance’s eyes go a little wide at that, and he pulls Keith into a tight embrace, burying his face into the dark hair at the nape of Keith’s neck.

Things are suddenly okay again. The races are ending. Lance is here in his arms. Safe. 

For the first time since finding out about the Galra, Keith believes they can finally see the end of the tunnel.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah the final race next chapter! It's gonna be a doozy :D


	19. The Final Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final night at the races has the stakes higher than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh boy I've been itching to write this chapter but my life is a little hectic at the moment. So much WORK. I hate being an "adult" whatever that is.  
> Anyway, as always comments are massively appreciated. I'd love to hear people's thoughts on how they think this is gonna pan out :D

The drive to the last race was quiet. Keith had kissed Lance softly, thumb stroking the patch of velvet skin underneath his ear. Lance had woven his fingers into Keith’s hair, dull nails scraping ever so slightly against his scalp as he pressed their bodies closer. When they drew away, Lance flashed Keith a smile that could have melted a polar ice cap before they climbed into their own cars and sped away from Keith’s place.

The taillights of Lance’s mustang glowed red as they bobbed along the road in front of Keith. The air in the car seemed oddly thick, the silence like heavy sludge without Lance’s chatter to chase it away. Keith couldn’t shake the feeling of dread creeping up on him. Sure, tonight was the last race. But Keith would be naïve to think that the curtain would fall and the Galra would simply let Lance go. As if it would be that easy.

The thought of Lance, bright eyed and smiling as he clutched Rosa, swam through Keith’s mind, along with the gushing flow of warmth that Keith felt inject itself directly into his heart. Lance laughing, tipping his head back as he wiped tears from his eyes. Lance biting his lip as a blush danced under his freckles. Lance red faced and panting as he writhed on the carpet.

Keith’s hands reflexively tightened around the wheel as a fierce protectiveness threatened to overtake him. Lance was a good person. He didn’t deserve people like the Galra taking advantage of him.

The cars slowed as Keith followed Blue, turning through a tight juncture between two buildings into an underpass. Keith could already see the familiar glow of fire barrels illuminating the tall columns of cement, the flames plastering strange shadows across their surface. Red purred quietly as she came to a stop, and Keith quickly flicked off the engine. Lance was already bounding over to him before Keith even had one foot out the door.

“Hope you like the look of my taillights, Keith,” he drawled, draping himself across Red’s bonnet.

Keith snorted, giving Lance a sharp shove with his foot. Lance yelped, rolling gracelessly off the hood of the Camaro to land in a crochet of limbs on the floor.

“Hope you like the taste of dust,” Keith fired back.

Lance untangled himself, scrambling to his feet with a look of sheer indignation on his face. Keith couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that crept its way up from the corner of his mouth. Dammit, Lance was rubbing off on him. And not in the fun way.

Not one to miss an opportunity though, Lance took a step forward, tilting his head to murmur into Keith’s ear.

“I can’t say it’s my favourite flavour.”

“Oh?” Keith mused, playing dumb. “And what _is_ your favourite flavour?”

Lance grins in a way that lets Keith know he’s said the right thing before leaning forward to catch his lips in a kiss. It’s barely more than a peck, and Keith stumbles a little as he leans forward, eager for more. He made a small grumble of protest as Lance pulled away, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout that he knew probably looked a lot more childish than he meant. Lance chuckled, swooping in to kiss Keith on the nose and leave him a little star struck.

“C’mon,” Lance said, grabbing Keith’s hand and tugging it. “Allura looks like she could use a hand with the crowd over by the odds board.”

Keith raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“I know Allura’s more than capable of taking care of herself.”

“Can you please just let me have this one thing?” Lance huffed. “I can’t just switch off being an older brother.”

“She’s older than you.”

“By like, two years!”

“Ten thousand years in maturity, that’s for sure.”

Lance scowled, swatting Keith on the arm.

“Well that’s a bit extreme. I’ll have you know I am incredibly mature and charismatic, thank you very much.”

Keith scoffed so hard he almost choked.

“Oh _sure._ Very charming. I bet you think you’re irresistible.”

Lance’s fingers tightened fractionally around Keith’s, and he turned to walk backwards so that Keith could get a full view of him waggling his eyebrows furiously.

“Well you couldn’t resist me, so I guess it’s true.”

Keith just rolled his eyes. He was about to about his mouth to tell Lance that he’s probably just inhaled too many car fumes when a snide voice cut him off.

“Ohoho! What is _this?_ ”

Keith’s smile dropped the second he saw who the voice belonged to. Lance’s eyes widened a little as well as the man came into view. It was the guy Lance had been flirting with all those weeks ago, a sneer curling at his mouth as his eyes raked judgementally over the boys clasped hands. Keith instinctively bared his teeth, his free hand curling into a fist at his side.

“Suddenly no longer available are we?” The guy asked. His question was clearly directed at Lance, as he didn’t so much as glance at Keith.

Lance tried to shrug it off, giving his hand a wave.

“That’s right,” he said airily, shooting the guy a half smile.

Keith didn’t like the way the man was looking at Lance. His eyes ran over Lance’s legs, pausing very pointedly at his crotch before travelling back up to his face. It was like he was looking at a piece of meat he intended to cook, and how much money he could haggle off the price. It was a filthy look, really. Like he had no respect for Lance as a person. Not only that, but he was pointedly ignoring Keith’s presence. Keith’s fist tightened, and he had to physically restrain himself from socking the guy right then and there. What even was his name? Alan? Andy?

“I seem to remember you being so _very_ available a little while back,” the guy droned.

“Yeah, well. Now I’m with someone, Andreas. It’s good,” Lance continued.

He brushed his thumb over Keith’s knuckles briefly, trying to calm him. Keith realised his hand on Lance’s had tightened into something of a death grip, the skin pulled taught over his knuckles turning white, and he quickly released his hold slightly. Not enough to let go though.

“Shame,” Andreas waged on. “You said you liked the freedom.”

His eyes roamed over Lance’s body again and his sneer turned vicious.

_“Slut.”_

Keith heard himself snarl, and he took a stride forward before he was firmly yanked back. Lance hadn’t relinquished their handhold, and he shot Keith a warning look as he reined the dark haired boy in.

Andreas snorted, clearly unimpressed. But at least he finally turned to take in Keith. He let his gaze sweep over Keith from top to toe, his eyes lidded with boredom as he opened his mouth to speak again.

“You know, I always knew Lance was a bit of a bitch. I just didn’t think that was his type, to-“

The last word was hardly out of Andreas’s mouth before his head snapped to the side with a sickening crunch, his teeth clacking together so loudly that Keith was surprised they didn’t shatter between his lips. The impact was so hard that his feet momentarily lifted of the pavement before his head hit the ground. When he landed, Andreas rolled once, his limbs sticking out awkwardly across the tarmac as a small white object scatter across the ground. Andreas groaned and spat out a mouthful of blood.

“Holy shit!”

Keith turned at the sound of Lance’s voice. The taller boy was standing there gaping, staring at his fist as if it had moved independently of his body. His eyes shot up to Keith’s.

“Holy shit, Keith! I just punched someone!”

“Yeah,” Keith said, because really. What are you supposed to say after your boyfriend forcibly removes a tooth from someone’s mouth for the sake of defending your honour?

“Shit!” Lance said again as his eyes land on Andreas. “Do you think he’s okay?”

Andreas groaned again, rolling over the lie on his back.

“Who cares?” Keith spat.

And with that, he tugged Lance in the direction of the odds board.

It’s a complete riot when they approach, hand over hand exchanging money as people desperately place their final bets on the Paladin Races. Allura looked a little frazzled, but still gorgeous, her silvery white hair swept up into a high ponytail as she plucked dollar bills from people’s hands and chalks in the new odds. When she spots them, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief, grinning broadly as she waved them over.

The amount of energy filling up the venue is thick enough to cut with a knife. It overwhelms Keith like a wave, wrapping him in the tingling sense of first adrenaline, excitement fizzling through his bones. This is what he loves about the races. This is what he loves about racing. The atmosphere. The feeling on anticipation, of uncertainty. The thrill of victory. Keith inhales deeply, feeling his face beginning to crack into a grin.

“Lance! Keith! Over here!”

Lance elbowed his way through the crowd with a loud string of shouted “WHOOPS! MY BAD! SCUUUUUSE ME!” Keith pulled closely in tow.

When they reached Allura, she wrapped her arms around both of them, giving them a quick squeeze.

“I hope you’re both ready for tonight,” she said pulling away.

“Aw hell yeah! I’m ready to wrap someone around my tires!” Lance yelled over the noise, pumping his fist.

“That sounds like you want to run someone over,” Keith scolded.

“What? No it doesn’t, it means I’m gonna leave someone in the dust.”

“You said you wanted to wrap them around your _wheels_.”

“Boys!” Allura interjected, clapping her hands together. “Why don’t you take a look at who you’re racing?”

Keith and Lance both blink at her before Lance let go of Keith’s hand in favour of wheeling around to look at the beat up old blackboard. Keith felt the chill left in Lance’s absence hit his palm immediately, and he curled his fingers in to shirk the sensation. Creeping around Allura, he peered at the names scrawled in sharp white against the board.

_KEITH//EL LEON AZUL_

Keith’s heart caught in his throat a little. When he turned, Lance’s eyes were alight with excitement.

“Oh YEEEAAAH!” Lance squealed.

He leapt in place, even going to far as to clack his heels together comically.

“Get ready to eat _dirrrrrt_ Gyeong!” he shouted, pointing the index finger from both hands at Keith.

A little bubble of excitement fizzed under Keith’s skin, sending little thrills of adrenaline dancing along his nerves.

“Oooh you better watch your back, Sanchez,” he said darkly.

“Why bother?” Lance said with a smug wave. “You’ll be watching it for me from BEHIND!”

A retort wass about to spring from Keith’s lips when two things happen at the same time.

Firstly, Lance froze, his smile locking in place as his expression tightened. The second is Keith heard Pidge yell both their names. He turned to see Pidge and Hunk waving them over from behind the betting crowd, and he automatically took a step towards them when he felt Lance brush against his side. In the opposite direction.

“Lance!”

Keith reached out to grab Lance’s bicep before he even realised he’d done it. Lance looked at him, wild-eyed, his eyes travelling between Keith and the fingers locked around his arm. Keith could feel his heart beating like a rabbit against his ribcage, and the sickening feeling of dread oozed over him again, pouring itself down his spine, icy fingers tracing his vertebrae,

“Where are you going?” Keith asked, his voice trembling.

Warm fingers wrapped around his own, and Keith looked down to see Lance squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“Keith, it’s okay. I’m just going to say hi to some friends,” Lance murmured.

Keith didn’t move. If anything, his grip around Lance’s bicep got tighter and the taller boy frowned at him. Keith realised his was shaking slightly, and he did his best to quash the feeling of prickling fear crawling its way through his veins.

Sensing his apprehension, Lance reached out to smooth a thumb over the deep crease between Keith’s eyebrows.

“Keith,” he breathed. “I’m okay. I promise. I’m just going to say hi to a few people.”

Keith let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, his fingers easing off Lance’s arm. His arm snaked out, catching Lance around the back of the neck as he pulled him into a hard kiss. It was a little frenzied, Keith pouring all his worry and unease into the breaths between them as he gripped Lance’s shoulders.

“Whoa, easy tiger,” Lance said breathlessly as he pulled away. “We’ve got company.”

Keith practically glared at Lance as he spoke.

“Come right back,” he ordered.

Lance gave him a small salute, tapping two fingers to his temple.

“Couldn’t stay away,” he said with a wink.

And with one last flash of a grin, he skipped away into the crowd, the throng of warm bodies swallowing him.

Keith stared after Lance for a second until Hunk’s voice shook him firmly out of whatever pity party he’d been hosting in the upstairs thought factory.

“Hey dude!” Hunk greeted Keith warmly as he approached. “Lance not with you?”

“He went to say hi to some other people,” Keith grumbled. He tried and failed to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“Figures,” Pidge piped up. “Lance knows everyone. He’s like that guy from Scott Pilgrim.”

“What?” Keith asked intelligibly.

“Comeau.”

“What’s that.”

“Nothing,” Pidge said with a chuckle. “You betting tonight?”

“Nah, racing. You?”

“Oooooh yes. Pidge has big money on a few racers tonight,” Hunk replied for them. “Since the stakes are so high.”

Keith rubbed the back of his neck, huffing out a half laugh,

“So you heard about me racing Lance?” he asked. Keith didn’t know why he suddenly felt so sheepish.

“Hell yeah we did,” Pidge piped up. “It’s like, the race of the century. Everyone’s torn.”

“Who’d you bet on?” Keith asked curiously.

Pidge’s eyes sparkle.

“The winner of course.”

Keith saved himself asking who that might be.

A loud cheer from the crowd rose over their conversation, alerting them to the start of the first race. Keith, Pidge, and Hunk made their way over to the start line as two souped up glittering cars, one black, one orange, pulled into position.

It seemed like a longer race today. That being said, it was clear that it was still a sprint. A fire barrel had been laid out about 300 metres away from the underpass, glowing orange in the distance. This race was not only about speed, it was going to be about tactics too.

Keith turned to look about the crowd, eyes sharp and peeled for any hint of cropped brown hair and a cheeky smile.

“Have you guys seen Lance?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“Missing lover boy?” Pidge teased.

Keith barked out a short laugh, but even to him it sounds forced.

“He’s probably just schmoozing, talking himself up. You know how he is,” Hunk explained reasonably.

“Yeah. Yeah you’re probably right,” Keith responded. He didn’t take his eyes off the crowd.

Not even when Allura stepped between the two cars to raise her arms. The crowd fell silent, drawing Keith’s attention back to the race. Allura held her position for a moment, allowing the suspense to grow as her eyes passed between both cars. Without warning she flung her hand down by her hips, ducking her head as the car tyres squealed against the ground. Debris scattered out behind the cars as they launched away from the start line, clouds of dust exploding from their wake. The crowd cheered loudly, raucous screams piercing the night air as Keith watched the race. The orange car immediately nudged ahead, pulling into the lead. It swerved as the black car tried to overtake, blocking its path. The crowd jeered, some people swearing loudly as the car sped towards the fire barrel. The black car swerved left, right, left again. The orange car tried to keep up, but missed one quick tug of the wheel and the black car finally managed to make some headway, pulling alongside its opponent. Pidge whooped loudly, pumping their fist into the air, and Keith felt a smile break out on his face.Even Hunk was hollering obscenities that just seemed out of place on his tongue.

Keith felt his skin start to itch, his fingers twitching where they hung at his side. He wanted to wrap them round a steering wheel, to feel the slight resistance of the pedals under his feet as he inhaled the smell of gas. He could feel himself bouncing on the balls of his feet, one big muddle of anticipation to race.

The two cars reached the barrel at the end, locked in tandem. The black car was on the inside of the turn, deliberately taking it a bit wider to try and force the orange car out. This was clearly a mistake. The orange car slowed, letting the black car pull into the turn first, before quickly accelerating into the bend. The cars bodies crashed together, knocking the black car off course. The orange car’s engine roared as it pulled out of the turn, firing back down the stretch. The crowd yelled as it crossed the finish line, black car following closely behind, and Pidge leapt so high with delight that they nearly stumbled when they touched back down.

“YES!!!!” they yelled in triumph. “I KNEW Lexy was gonna win! I personally upgraded her car.”

Hunk poked Pidge in the shoulder playfully.

“Cheater,” he admonished.

“Hey, it’s not cheating. It’s intuition,” Pidge argued.

With a wink, they took off towards the odds board to collect their winnings. Hunk sighed with a smile, turning his eyes on Keith.

“You excited about your race?” he asked.

Keith grinned widely. The excitement was starting to get to him, and he felt as iff he was visibly vibrating with the impending thrill.

“You know it. I’m gonna wipe the floor with Lance.”

Hunk laughed heartily, clapping Keith on the shoulder.

“Just remember to make it up to him after, otherwise he’s gonna be complaining about it for weeks.”

“Complaining about what?” a familiar voice asked.

Keith’s head whipped around to see Lance strolling over to them, hands in his pockets, Pidge at his side. Their hands were stuffed with thick wads of money, a huge grin plastered across their face.

“Lance!” Keith cried, leaping a few steps forward to reach him.

Lance uncurled an arm to hug Keith as he came bounding over.

“Whoa, miss me that much?” he asked surprised.

He shot Keith an infectious smile, and Keith squeezed his hip lovingly.

Pidge was probably rolling their eyes, but Keith didn’t care. Lance wrapped an arm loosely around his shoulders, steering them back towards Hunk. Keith let his hand curl around Lance’s hip so that they could walk together. His fingers momentarily brushed Lance’s ass, and Keith tensed slightly before he remembered… He _could_ do that. He was allowed. And Lance’s had a really cute butt.

As they drew to a stop, Keith let his hand slip off Lance’s hip to rest on the curve of his ass. Lance’s eyes flickered sideways briefly, and Keith boldly gave him a little squeeze. Lance let out a little choking noise that he quickly clamped down on, sealing his lips shut. Hunk just raised his eyebrows but refrained from commenting.

“So you betting on my and Keith’s race?” Lance asked, doing his best impression of nonchalance.

“Yeah, obviously,” Pidge replied. Their grin was positively wicked.

“Which of us did you bet on?” Lance asked immediately. He no longer seemed to care about being aloof.

“Not telling,” Pidge answered blandly, not even looking back.

Lance opened his mouth, a very offended look on his face, when there was another squeal of tyres ripping through the air. The group turned to watch the next pair of cars rocket away from the start line. Lance yelled loudly, one fist pumping the air as he refused to remove his arm from Keith’s shoulders. Keith momentarily tore his eyes away from the race to watch Lance.

His blue eyes glittered with the orange flicker of the fire barrels, making them look green in some areas. His beautiful skin had a glow about it, and his entire face came alive as he grinned and shouted. Suddenly he turned, locking eyes with Keith. Keith realised he’d been staring, but somehow, he didn’t feel the need to look away. He just watched Lance, letting the other boy absorb his stare, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. Wordlessly, Lance leaned in to press a soft kiss at the corner of Keith’s mouth.

“Enjoying the view?” he murmured.

Keith let out a small whine, turning his head to catch Lance’s lips in a full kiss. He felt Lance’s tongue brush his bottom lip, and he willingly opened his mouth, letting Lance’s breath tumble down is throat.

“Ew, guys. Keep it PG13 please,” Hunk pleaded.

Lance pulled away with the smuggest expression Keith had ever seen him wear.

“Ready to lose, firecracker?” he taunted.

Keith scowled mockingly.

“Not on your life,” he shot back.

“Hey, you’re up,” Pidge announced, poking Keith in the ribs.

Keith head turned back to the start line to see Allura beckoning them. The other race hadn’t finished yet, but it was time to get their cars. With one last press of his lips to Lance’s, Keith gave his butt a firm squeeze for good measure, smirking the way Lance’s eyes grew wide for a second.

“See you at the finish line,” Keith said.

Lance flashed him a grin before turning and jogging in the direction of his car.

Keith slipped into the driver’s seat of his Camaro. His senses felt heightened with all the adrenaline pumping through his blood. He could smell the leather of his seats, the soft bend of the material under his legs as he shifted to reach the pedals better. He could feel the slight resistance in the gearshift as he pressed down on the clutch. Red practically purred at him as he slowly edged the vehicle up to the start line. The screams of the crowd were louder than they’d been all night, no doubt because their star racer was about to have the ride of his life. It was loud, even through the glass of Keith’s car window.

He could see Blue draw alongside him out the corner of his eye, and he rolled down his window as Lance leaned out of his.

“May the best man win,” Lance called across the space between them.

“I intend to!” Keith called back.

Lance scoffed, but Keith was unable to keep the smile off his face. He was twitching with excitement, the buzz of chemicals shooting through his brain like a drug.

Allura swooped down to Lance’s window to say something to him. The tan boy nodded, giving her a cheeky wink, and she beamed at him. Making her way over to Keith, she stooped to talk to him.

“Good luck, Keith,” she said cordially. Reaching out, she patted him on the arm in a strange display of affection.

“Thanks, Allura,” Keith replied softly.

With one last reassuring smile, Allura stepped in between the cars, raising her hands.

The crowd grew quiet. Keith could feel his heartbeat drum through his fingertips, pulsing through the wheel of his car, as if it were melding them together. His foot twitched were it rested on the accelerator, and he rolled his shoulders to try and dispel some of the tension. He was wound up tighter than a spring.

He saw Allura’s wrist move downwards fractionally, and before she’d even got her arms all the way down by her hips, Keith slammed on the accelerator, listening to Red roar with power.

He shot away from the start line like a cannon, switching up through the gears at light speed. He could still see Blue next to him, could picture Lance’s whoop of joy as they shot down the stretch towards the fire barrel. Keith tried to pull ahead, pressing his foot hard into the gas. It did little to help. He was neck and neck with Lance. He could see the arm of his speed dial arching upwards. 80, 90, 100mph. Keith let out a whoop of pure delight as Red sang beneath him. He eased off the gas as they approached the turn, flicking back into a lower gear to accommodate the change of speed. Lance had the advantage, being on the inside of the turn, so Keith tried his trick. He slowed down, letting Lance pull ahead, yanking his wheel as they fire barrel came into his windshield view.

It was his move. And Lance knew that.

Before he could gain any sort of ground, Lance swerved in front of him, blocking his path. Keith swore loudly. He knew Lance was probably cackling to himself with premature victory. The two cars fired away from the turn, Keith swerved, distracting Lance long enough to pull alongside him again. The finish line was getting closer and they were still neck and neck. Keith chanced a look across at Lance and gritted his teeth at what he saw.

Lance was wearing an expression as if he’d won already. His lips were pulled back in a crooked grin, his eyes flashing cockily as he yipped wit delight.

And there it was.

The feeling Keith had felt the first time he’d seen Lance win a race. The incessant need to wipe that cocky grin off his face. To knock him down a peg or two. It wasn’t quite like before. He didn’t want to beat Lance for the sake of shaking his arrogance. Keith wanted to beat Lance to show him who was in control. He wanted to work Lance up so much that he’d be putty in his hands as Keith pushed him up against a wall and shoved his hand down his pants. He wanted Lance to fight against him as the battled for dominance.

In that moment, Keith wanted to win just as much as Lance did.

He glanced around as much as he dared take his eyes off the course, looking for something to use to his advantage.

Think, Keith, THINK.

He couldn’t slam into Lance’s car, he’d built Blue by hand. He loved her.

He loved her, Keith realised. He wouldn’t want her to get damaged.

Without a second thought, Keith swerved to the side. It wasn’t enough to actually damage Blue, but it was enough for Lance to worry about it. Keith heard the taller boy swear as he swerved out reach. The slight change in course was all it took for Keith to gain the upper hand. Red nosed ahead with the extra ground taking up Blue’s course, and Keith’s grin could almost split his face. The crowd zoomed past him as h shot across the finish line, immediately removing his foot from the accelerator. He let Red coast to a stop, turning the car back round to amble back towards the odds board. He could see tyre streaks were Lance had slammed the brakes on Blue, and the driver’s side door swung open.

Keith jumped out of Red, stepping up on the verge of her body to catch sight of Lance.

Keith’s smile was ear to ear, and his heart beat like a hummingbird in his chest as the adrenaline overwhelmed him. He could hear the rumble of the crowd’s feet running towards him and Keith felt as if he were glowing. Until he caught sight of the look on Lance’s face. When his navy eyes locked onto Lance’s azure ones, Keith realised his mistake.

Lance looked _terrified._

That’s when it all came flooding back. The constantly looking at his phone, the dark circles under his eyes, the purple bruises blossoming over his ribs.

What was it Lance had said to him all those weeks ago at Pidge’s house?

_Pick your wins._

Keith felt like he’d swallowed cement mix, his mouth running so dry as a stone dropped in his stomach. He unhinged his jaw to shout at Lance when the crowd swamped him.

_“LANCE!”_

Keith’s scream was drowned out by the crowds cheering. He tried to fight through them, but the mass of warm bodies crushed him against his car. Keith frantically shoved at people, trying to get a better view. He almost had a heart attack when he saw a dark purple car pull up alongside Blue. Three men stepped out, and Keith’s world came crashing down.

One of them was tall, easily seven foot. He was the exact size and shape of the dark shadow that had been haunting Lance’s presence at these races. He sneered cruelly and Lance blanched. Keith screamed Lance’s name again as the man wrapped a thick hand around Lance’s bicep and half lifted half yanked him into the purple car.

Keith almost choked on the emotions threating to overwhelm him. He could barely hear the shouts of congratulations as fear crawled its way into his throat, blocking his windpipe.

The remaining two men climbed into Blue, driving after the purple car as it sped away. Keith wanted to cry.

Wildly, he looked about for Hunk. Spotting him, he reached for him like a lifeline.

“HUNK!”

At the panic in his voice, Hunk’s smile vanished. He wasted no time in shoving himself through the crowd.

“Move!” he yelled at people until he could grab Keith.

“Lance!” Keith choked out. “We have to help Lance!”

Hunk frowned in pure confusion before looking over to where Blue should have been. Spotting her absence, Hunk wrapped an arm around Keith’s shoulders and barrelled his way back through the crowd.

“What’s going on?” Hunk asked fearfully. Keith’s resolve crumbled.

“The Galra,” he wheezed.

Hunk’s eyes widened with terror as Pidge and Allura ran up to meet them.

“No,” Hunk said weakly.

Keith just nodded his head limply.

“What’s happened?” Allura demanded as she approached, seeing the looks on Keith and Hunk’s faces. Hunk looked like he was about to pass out.

“The Galra have Lance,” Keith told them when hunk didn’t speak.

Allura inhaled sharply, and Pidge’s mouth dropped open.

“He didn’t…” Pidge trailed off. They looked horrified.

Keith caught sight of someone then. Someone with pale skin and yellow hair in pigtails. With a snarl, he ripped himself out of Hunk’s grasp, storming over to Nyma.

“ _Where is he?”_ he growled.

Nyma turned around in shock, blinking at the fury on Keith’s face.

“What?” she asked dumbly.

“Where are the Galra taking Lance?” Keith hissed.

And before he knew it, he’d grabbed her collar, yanking her upwards sharply. Nyma let out a strangled cry with surprise, and Keith felt someone clap him on the shoulder in warning.

“Keith!” Allura said sharply.

But he could barely hear her. He was so focused on finding Lance.

“ _WHERE ARE THEY NYMA?”_

Nyma actually had the gall to sneer at him.

“How should I know? It’s not like he has anything to do with them.”

Keith roared, shaking Nyma violently. He could feel rage and panic and worry and _fear_ ripping through his veins like acid. His hands were shaking, and his voice trembled when he yelled. This was pure fear.

“They HAVE Lance, Nyma! They’re going to hurt him. Now TELL ME WHERE HE IS!”

Nyma blinked as sudden comprehension washed over her. Her features went slack as her mouth dropped open.

“But… Lance isn’t part of… He wouldn’t…”

Keith abruptly dropped her, and Nyma crumpled to her knees. Without turning back, Keith sprinted off towards the underpass, tearing away from Allura.

He had to find Lance. The danger was real now. Keith could no longer compartmentalise the Galra threat into a few nasty text messages and a smattering of injuries. No, this was boiling point. And now they had Lance.

Because of _him._

Keith wanted to scream at himself. He wanted to dig the heels of his hands into his eyes until they stopped prickling with hot tears. He wanted to smack his head into the wall for being so _arrogant_ he didn’t even think about what losing this race meant for his boyfriend.

Keith wasn’t really sure where he was running to, but as he rounded the corner of a shipment container, a hot wave of red ember engulfed him.

He reflexively raised a hand to protect his eyes. The burning air claws at his lungs and he coughs and he stumbled a few steps back.

Lowering his arm, Keith’s heart stopped. Because sitting in front of him, doors flung wide, windscreen shattered, was Blue.

And Blue was on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohohoho if you think Keith is gonna hold back because someone is female you have got another thing coming my friend.
> 
> Come scream at me @zizzani


	20. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conflict with the Galra comes to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory "I'm busy with work I'm sorry this is late"  
> Also, there are male pronouns for Pidge in this chapter after an enthusiatic request from a commenter.  
> I'm not too sure about the pacing in this chapter, but... I'm kinda done with it, you know? It's done. The is the climax. Next chapter is the fallout.

To say that time slowed down would be a cliché.

Time didn’t slow down. Time didn’t falter at all.

Rather, it was Keith who slowed down.

He stared in horror as the flames licked relentlessly at Blue’s body like whips, blazing orange scorching away the shiny veneer of the car with an alarming rapidity.

Keith felt as if the blood were moving through his body like mud, the veins in his legs descending into the concrete like roots, holding him in place as he gaped at the scene before him.

Blue was on fire.

Blue was on _fire._

A strange popping noise broke the shocked stillness, making him flinch with the sound of pure destruction. Keith barely had time to notice a dark figure dart towards him as they cried out, “GET BACK!” and a solid weight tackled him, knocking his entire frame backwards a couple of yards. Keith’s head snapped back, thwacking into the pavement with a loud thud, and he gasped as the wind was knocked out of him.

Before he had time to sit up, the figure slapped a palm into his forehead, shoving his head solidly back against the ground. Keith didn’t even have time to open his mouth in protest before a loud rupturing bang clapped through the air.

The explosion illuminated the area with white light as a huge cloud of smoke billowed upwards towards the sky. Keith heard the metal of Blue’s frame groan and creak as it warped with the heat, tiny little cracking noises coming from inside the body as the inner mechanisms shattered with the heat.

Belatedly, he realised the fire must have reached the gas tank. He coughed harshly, trying to suck in what little oxygen he could through the cloying smoke, eyes watering. His vision was a little blurry from the heat and the pain in his skull, but Keith managed to sit up enough to see who had tackled him.

At first, Keith thought his mind was playing tricks on him. He registered brown skin, dark hair, and Keith’s mind made an impossible leap. Blinking a few times, the man’s face finally came into view. Keith wished his heart didn’t sink so much.

 _“Hunk?”_ Keith wheezed.

Hunk wrapped his fingers around Keith’s forearm, tugging the boy sharply to his feet. Without saying anything, he half frog-marched half dragged Keith around the corner of the nearest shipping unit, getting them both to a safe distance from the blaze.

Keith sucked in heavy gasps of clear air, his throat burning like he’s swallowed sandpaper. His whole body convulsed as he choked on a lungful of air, jerking forwards as he rasped out cough after raucous cough. He was vaguely aware of hunk’s hand rubbing soothingly over his back, the weight a warm presence through the overwhelming situation. Keith’s shaking slowed as he caught his breath, steadying himself against Hunk’s solid frame. His mind was still playing catch up, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

“Blue…” he wheezed.

Hunk just shook his head. Keith stared at him wide-eyed.

Hunk’s mouth was set into a hard line, his thick eyebrows pulled together beneath his headband, and there was a muscle jumping in his jaw from where his teeth were clenched. Worry and fear stained his features like a sickness, but there was something else there too. Something deeper, dancing just behind the surface.

_Sadness._

It had carved itself into the lines of Hunk’s face the way water carves bends into the path of a river, and it made Keith feel an ancient weariness ache within his soul.

“We need to get away from here,” Hunk said firmly. His voice trembled a little still.

Keith thought it would be kinder to ignore it.

He gave a single nod of assent, letting Hunk loop one of his arms around his broad shoulders as they moved away from the burning wreckage.

They’d barely taken more than a few steps back towards the underpass when Pidge came zooming around the corner of a shipping unit, nearly barrelling into Hunk’s solid chest. Allura was no less than two steps behind, her features taught with concern.

“Keith!” Pidge cried.

And before he could say a word, Pidge coiled his tiny arms around Keith’s middle with bruising strength. Keith let out a little huff as what little air he had was squeezed out of his lungs. It didn’t last long though. Pidge had barely let out a little sniffle before he jumped back and smacked Keith around the face.

Keith’s head snapped to the side with a harsh _slap,_ his teeth clacking together loudly.

“PIDGE!” Allura gasped, and she moved to wrap a hand around Pidge’s wrist as he pulled his arm back to unleash another hit.

_“Don’t you EVER do that again!”_

The ferocity with which Pidge had hissed his words made Keith flinch. The arm Allura was holding strained against her grip, eager to rip free and lash across Keith’s cheek again, but Pidge’s entire body was shaking. His eyes shone with the threat of tears, and his lips were pulled back in a snarl that was flaking at the edges.

Pidge was scared.

Pidge was scared _for him._

And for Lance, Keith realised.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen the tawny-haired person in front of him showcase such emotion before, and it was terrifying. Keith felt like an animal in a trap, watching a potential predator for its next move.

“What were you thinking?” Pidge demanded.

He pulled his arm free of Allura’s hold, arm dropping by his side though his fist was still clenched tightly. Allura looked like she wanted to restrain Pidge again, and her hands stretched forward hesitantly.

Keith opened his mouth to say something. Say something.

_Say something!_

“We’ve lost Lance! The last thing we need to do is lose you too!” Pidge yelled.

And his voice cracked horribly, along with Keith’s heart.

The tears in Pidge’s eyes spilled over traitorously, and his arm shot up to scrub them from his cheeks. Keith had never felt to helpless in his life.

“Allura.”

Everyone’s heads snapped to Hunk. His expression was grim but resolute, and he took a deep breath before he spoke.

“We have to call Shiro.”

“No.”

Allura’s answer was swift and clipped.

Keith slowly turned his head to look at her. I mean really _look._

Allura’s eyes were shiny like Pidge’s had been. Her hands were curled into fists, and her lip wobbled with distress. But still, she held her stance, her chin lifted high and her shoulders back, her steely gaze daring Hunk to challenge her.

“We have to.”

Hunk’s voice was harsher than Keith had ever heard it, and it involuntarily made his shiver.

“ _No,”_ Allura said, voice rising. “I will not get him involved with the Galra. Not again.”

Keith inhaled shakily, finally finding his voice. He opened his mouth to speak when Hunk took a step forward, drawing himself up to his full height.

It was then that Keith really noticed how tall Hunk was. Allura had always seemed taller because of the way she carried herself, posture as straight as a die and enough refined presence to rival a monarch. It helped that Hunk was always curling in on himself with nerves, or otherwise stooping in embarrassment.

But here Hunk was, standing almost chest-to-chest with Allura, a good half a foot taller than her, staring her down like a general would stare down a cadet.

“If Lance gets hurt,” Hunk said quietly, “and Shiro finds out that he could have helped, he will never forgive himself. And he will never forgive you.”

Allura felt that. Hell, _Keith_ felt those words slice through him like a knife through hot butter, and they weren’t even directed at him.

Allura’s expression crumpled, and she bit her lip in a gesture of genuine upset. Stepping back a little, she ran a shaking hand through her hair as she exhaled a ragged breath.

“Okay,” she whispered. Keith didn’t think he’d heard anyone so torn.

With trembling fingers, Allura reached into the pocket of her blue leather jacket and pulled out her phone, hurriedly hitting a key for speed dial and pressing the receiver against her ear.

“Allura,” Pidge spoke up.

Allura turned, fixing her worried eyes on Pidge as she held the phone loosely against her jaw.

“Tell him to bring Rover.”

Allura nodded in understanding before turning away.

Pidge moved closer to Hunk, slipping one of his small hands into Hunk’s thick fingers, sighing slightly as the larger man squeezed a gentle reassurance.

Allura talked quietly into her phone, not that Keith was really listening at all. He kept running through the whole course of events in his head.

Lance going to see his “friends”, Lance’s insistence that he was going to beat Keith, the raw terror in his eyes when he’d gotten out of the car. The moment played over and over in Keith’s head like a skipping vinyl, unnerving and filled with static.

They’d shoved Lance into the car like a ragdoll before taking off with him down the strip.

“Keith.”

The sound of Pidge’s voice cut through Keith’s imaginary montage, and he suddenly realised he’d been digging his fingernails into his palms hard enough to draw blood.

“We’ll get Lance back,” Pidge said.

There was no argument in his voice, just a hard stubbornness that almost convinced Keith he was right.

Almost.

“It’s my fault,” Keith gritted out. “If I had just let Lance win-“

“You didn’t know,” Hunk said gently. “It’s not your fault. None of us knew.”

And Keith felt that crack in his heart splinter all the way down to the bottom. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes to stop himself from crying. His next words burn his tongue like acid.

“But I _did_ know _.”_

Hunk went deathly quiet. Keith couldn’t bring himself to look at his friends, coward that he was. He felt like the skin was peeling off his bones, leaving him bare, exposed.

“I fucking _knew,”_ he choked. “And I just-“

“You knew?” Pidge cut in.

Keith couldn’t bring himself to look at the smaller boy, but he could guess that Pidge was probably balking at him in horror. He felt horrified at himself, too. Shame squatted inside his bones, a hollow ache that made his body feel heavy and his lungs too small.

“You _knew_ and you didn’t tell us?!” Pidge shouted.

“Lance said he was going to tell you! He was going to tell you tonight!” Keith cried.

His voice was hoarse from inhaling smoke. Even he could hear the pleading note in his tone. The desperation in his voice filled his ears like oil, sticking to his skin as it clogged his brain.

Hunk just stared at him, his face empty of any emotion. It made panic rise in Keith chest like a wave.

“Guys.”

Allura’s voice stalled the jittering boil in Keith’s gut like water over a fire. She looked as if she’d aged ten years in the few minutes she’d been on the phone, and the corners of her mouth were pulled down in defeat. The expression didn’t fit properly on her face, like someone had tried to jam together two mismatched pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

“Shiro’s on his way.”

 

* * *

 

 

It didn’t take long for Shiro to arrive on the estate. The headlights of his sleek black car shone like beacons across the concrete strip, drawing closer to the small group of friends. He’d stepped out of the driver’s side with a face like thunder, jaw set and eyes dark. It had made Keith hesitate.

He got the distinct impression that Shiro rarely got angry. But at the moment, he looked practically murderous. The muscles of his organic arm were bunched under his shirt, and Keith could see him clenching and unclenching his fist in agitation.

He’d stormed right up to Keith, causing the shorter boy to skitter back a few steps on pure instinct, before Shiro caught him by the arm and firmly demanded, “What happened?”

Keith briefly reiterated the situation. He kept his eyes downcast when he mentioned that Lance had asked him to keep his involvement with the Galra a secret. He could suddenly understand why the others insisted Shiro was a father figure: Keith felt as if he’d disappointed the mechanic in a hideously personal way that he couldn’t atone for. The thought made him squirm uncomfortably under Shiro’s even gaze.

“Where did they go?” Shiro asked once Keith had recounted the events.

“I don’t know,” Keith mumbled.

His voice was scratchy, from the smoke, and from the tight ball of hot shame that had lodged itself snugly in his oesophagus.

“No, I mean where did they _go?_ ” Shiro asked again. “You said they got in a car. Which direction did they drive in?”

Keith frowned at the question.

“Perhaps if we go back to the finish line, it will help you remember?” Allura suggested.

Since Shiro had arrived, she hadn’t taken her hands off him. She constantly had an arm looped through his, or the fingers of one hand woven between his own. Shiro didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to appreciate the gesture, even absently leaning into her touch a little, like she was an anchor keeping him from floating adrift.

The group traipsed the short distance back to finish line. Keith saw the skid marks left from Blue tyres inking calligraphy over the parchment of the dusty track. The acute hatred of his own stupidity reared its head inside him, blurring his vision momentarily, and he spat on the ground in frustration.

Hunk shot him a sidelong look, but didn’t say anything. Somehow that made it worse. Hunk hadn’t said anything since Keith had admitted to knowing about Lance’s deal with the Galra. It was unsettling that such a reassuring presence had fallen decidedly silent. It made Keith hate himself more.

As they approached the finish line, Keith felt the whole thing come rushing back. The speed, the crowd, the Galra, _Lance._

“That way,” he spoke before he even thought.

Raising one hand, Keith pointed definitively in the direction he’d seen the car drive off.

“They went that way.”

“That’s good!”

Keith’s expression morphed into one of abject confusion and offense at Allura’s words. She cut him off before he could even squawk.

“There’s no roads leading back to the city up there,” she explained. “It only leads down to the river where the leftover shipping unit stacks are from Coran’s old company. We leave a lot of them unlocked for people who need shelter and have little else.”

Keith felt something flicker inside him as Allura’s words sank in. The ball of lead in his stomach felt like someone had chipped off a piece, making it almost indiscernibly lighter.

“If the Galra have taken Lance down to the end of the strip, then that’s where they’ll be.”

“Alright,” Shiro said with a nod.

He turned to place a peck against Allura’s temple.

“I’ll drive to the end of the strip with Keith and Pidge. Hunk, I need you to stay here with Allura.”

Allura immediately opened her mouth to argue, but Shiro just offered her a tight smile.

“They’re on your land, Allura,” he murmured.

Something seemed to click in Allura’s head, her mouth shifting into something akin to a smirk. Keith didn’t understand the exchange, but as it was, he didn’t feel like he had much weight to throw around in negotiating a plan.

Hunk took Allura’s hand, and the two of them stepped away from Shiro’s car as Keith and Pidge climbed in. Pidge didn’t yell shotgun, but he didn’t need to. Keith relegated himself to the backseat willingly, not wanting to sit between two people that probably hated him.

Shiro pulled away down the strip, Allura and Hunk getting swallowed up by the darkness in the rear window as the care sped along the flat concrete.

The ride was silent. Keith didn’t know how long the strip was, but he guessed it couldn’t be more then a few miles at most. He stared out of the window, watching the lights of the city twinkle in the distance as his mind wandered.

He was so angry.

He was angry at Lance for thinking he could take the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was angry at the Galra for putting his boyfriend in this position and for exploiting and abusing people. But most of all he was angry at himself.

A million and one scenarios played out in Keith’s head.

What if they cut off Lance’s hand like they had done Shiro’s? What if they did something worse? What if they got there, and they’d already killed Lance, leaving his body beaten and crumpled without a second thought as to who might find him.

The thought had Keith swallowing thickly, willing his emotions to stay in check.

Whatever happened to Lance, it was his fault.

For not speaking up, for not telling someone. For not paying better damned attention to the things his boyfriend was going through.

The world was going to be short of the overwhelming, selfless, _brilliant_ presence of Lance McClain and it was all Keith’s fault.

“We’ll get him back Keith.”

Shiro’s voice cut through his wallowing, and Keith lifted his eyes to meet Shiro’s in the rear view mirror. Shiro’s eyes were steel, hard and unwavering.

 _In how many pieces,_ Keith thought.

His eyes drifted to Shiro’s prosthetic hand. The movement didn’t go unnoticed by the older man.

“ _All_ of him.”

Keith just turned to look out the window again.

 

* * *

 

Keith was right: The strip wasn’t longer than a couple of miles. After a few minutes, the bulky silhouette of stacked shipping units came into view, shady jenga blocks blotting out the city lights.

Shiro slowed the car, pulling alongside a small cluster of the steel containers a little way from the main stack. The three got out the vehicle to creep alongside the containers. Keith dryly thought that they probably looked like that progression of man poster – Shiro stood tall, peering around the edge of the steel shipping unit, Keith with his body weight lowering, and Pidge crouching behind him.

A series of clicking noises came from underneath Pidge’s huddled form, and Keith twisted to look over his shoulder as they flicked open a large black box.

“What is that?” he asked incredulously. “Where did you even get that.”

“Keep your voice down!” Pidge hissed, raising a finger to his lips as he glared at Keith.

The dark-haired boy felt himself wilt under Pidge’s baleful look.

“And this,” Pidge continued, pulling a large spindly object out of the box. “Is Rover.”

Keith blinked dumbly as he observed the item. It had a thin body, just one long length of metal really, with adjacent arms sprouting from either end like a capital ‘i’. At the end of each bar was a thin band of metal containing a propeller.

“You brought a _drone_??” Keith whispered loudly. “You just _conveniently_ had that? What’s the point?”

“I’ve had Rover since the pay out on your first race. The _point,_ Keith,” Pidge replied, speaking slowly as if they were explaining algebra to a toddler. “Is that in case you hadn’t noticed, this site is very big. And this little guy here has a camera. So either we can spend all night traipsing around a bunch of old steel crates searching for your stupid boyfriend in the hope that we’ll just STUMBLE across his skinny ass, _or_ we can find him the smart way.”

Keith bit back a retort at Pidge’s comments, the taste of unspoken words bitter on his tongue. Lance wasn’t stupid. Well, okay. Lance _was_ stupid. But he didn’t need anymore on him at the moment.

“How do you even plan to control-“

Pidge’s hand disappeared inside a pocket Keith hadn’t even noticed on his coat, before emerging again with a mini tablet. Keith’s eyes bugged a little at the image of the drone sat in Pidge’s lap whilst the smaller boy tapped on the device in his hands.

“Why the hell do you have a tablet in your coat pocket?” he asked, not even trying to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

“Uh, because I’m _civilised?_ ”

Pidge said it like it was obvious, leaving Keith even more confused than before he’d enquired about the apparent arsenal of tech hiding beneath Pidge’s clothes.

“Listen up guys,” Shiro interjected.

Keith and Pidge’s heads snapped to attention as Shiro turned to face them fully.

“Knowing the Galra, they’ll have Lance in the middle of the site with some muscle patrolling the perimeters. I know enough about their setup to be able to work out a pattern for the patrols, but I’m gonna need Rover to fly overheard and try to find which unit they’ve got Lance in.”

Pidge nodded in understanding, tapping a few buttons on the screen.

Rover’s propellers flickered to life, spinning so fast they were all but invisible in the limited light. With a slight bump from Pidge, the drone hovered unsteadily in the air for a moment before righting itself. Pidge tapped another button on the screen, and Rover rose in the air, disappearing into the dark of the sky.

Keith looked down at the tablet in Pidge’s hands to see a live stream from the drone’s camera feed. He could see a bird’s eye view of the three of them huddled together by the unit before the camera moved. A scale view of the dock filled the screen, and Keith could see a few pinpricks of light littered around the construct, essentially pinpointing exactly where the Galra outposts were.

“And here we go,” Pidge muttered to himself.

“Keith, you’re with me,” Shiro said, putting a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“Are we going over the top?” Keith asked, his gaze filtering over the tops of the shipping units, plotting a potential path.

Shiro shook his head.

“Too much noise. We’ll be going on the ground.”

Keith nodded.

“Follow me. Stay close. Stay quiet,” Shiro said in a hushed tone before turning and slipping round the corner.

Keith chanced a glance back at Pidge. He was frowning at his tablet, thumbs skimming the screen. He looked up momentarily to see Keith watching him.

“Go. I’ll wait here. Keep your phone on for when I find Lance.”

Keith turned to follow Shiro, but Pidge spoke out before he’d so much as taken a step.

“And for the love of _God,_ Keith. Put your phone on silent. This is not a fucking plot device in a badly scripted Hollywood movie.”

Keith complied as he slipped round the unit to catch up with Shiro, his finger flicking the switch for silent mode on the side of his phone. The older man was crouched by the next row of units, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tapped his finger against his thigh. Keith observed the action mildly. He thought it may be a nervous tick before he noticed Shiro’s lips moving almost imperceptibly, mouthing out words.

One… two… three…

 _He’s counting,_ Keith realised. He opened his mouth to ask wait they were waiting for, but his questions was answered for him when a man appeared around the corner. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and Keith’s eyes instantly found the gun at his hip. There was just enough time for a gruesome chill to shudder through Keith’s body when the man’s head whipped around, his eyes blowing wide as he spotted them.

It happened so fast that Keith barely even saw it.

Shiro’s prosthetic hand shot out, grabbing the man around the back of the neck as he forced him forwards. His foot swung towards the man’s knee, kicking his legs out from under him, and Shiro slammed the man’s head into the concrete with a sickening crack.

He held him there for a moment, his prosthetic hand clicking quietly as it keep its crushing grip on the man’s neck. Then Shiro abruptly let go, stepping out of his crouch to stand tall.

“Is he…?” Keith whispered.

He sounded both awed and aghast.

“Unconscious,” Shiro grunted. “He’ll most likely have a broken nose though.”

He paused for a brief moment, eyes drifting over the man’s body before he seemed to come to a silent decision. Dropping to one knee, he pulled the man’s gun out of it’s holster, tucking it into the waistband at the back of his pants.

Keith gulped slightly, gingerly stepping over the man as he followed Shiro around to the next row of units.

Keith’s eyes tracked Shiro’s fingers, tapping out a steady rhythm on his leg before the next man rounded to corner. The encounter went very much the same.

Shiro’s foot kicked the next man’s knee at an awkward angle, and Keith heard a nauseating snap as his whole leg bent unnaturally. The man opened his mouth to scream but Shiro clamped a hand firmly over his lips, using the moment to push the man backwards and smack his head against the concrete. The man’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his features went slack, irises rolling back into his head. Shiro let go, standing up slowly when-

“Shiro, look out!”

Keith darted forwards just as another assailant appeared behind Shiro’s large shoulder. Keith ducked under a sloppy swing to deliver a sharp jab to the Galra’s throat. He choked loudly, hand shooting up instinctively to clutch at his abused windpipe. Keith used the distraction to snatch his arm back, slamming his elbow into the man’s jaw. The force of the action caused the man’s head to snap to the side with a dizzying speed. He tottered for a moment, eyes glazing over before gravity took hold, and he fell flat on his back.

Shiro stared at his limp form, blinking in surprise.

“Thanks,” he said earnestly.

Keith nodded solemnly. He didn’t particularly think that Shiro had anything to thank him for. If it weren’t for Keith’s secrecy, they wouldn’t be in the situation.

Just then, Keith’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he could see Pidge’s caller ID flash up on the screen, and he wasted no time in pressing the glowing green receive button.

“Lance is in unit LD-1719. It’s the only grey unit surrounded by a load of purple. Pretty sure there’s some red graffiti on the side but it’s hard to tell with this light.”

“Can you see Lance?” Keith asked immediately. “Is he hurt?”

There’s silence from the other end of the line. Keith could barely hear Pidge’s shivering breath through the receiver, tinny and crackling through the dodgy connection.

“Pidge!” Keith hissed.

His mind was racing a hundred miles an hour, trying to decipher the smaller boy’s silence.

“Get him out of there, Keith,” Pidge said finally.

His voice was steely and resolute, gravelly in a way Keith hadn’t heard before.

“Grey unit. Red graffiti. Tell me.”

“Grey unit, red graffiti,” Keith repeated back after taking a shuddering breath. Pidge made a small noise of confirmation, and a soft beep told Keith that he’d hung up the other end.

Shiro was watching him, no doubt having overheard the conversation. He waited until Keith had slipped the phone back into his pocket before he turned to peer around the shipping unit they were currently crouched behind.

“I can see the container Pidge mentioned,” Shiro murmured.

Keith edged forwards to look himself, but Shiro raised an arm in warning.

“Careful,” he warned. “It won’t help anyone to get caught now.”

Keith heeded Shiro’s words, creeping forward barely a fraction of a step to try and catch a glimpse of the location. Sliver by sliver, the tower of units came into view. Like a photo loading on a dial up internet connection, one row of pixels at a time.

It was exactly how Pidge had described: There was a tower of purple shipping containers stacked at least 5 or 6 high. Some face lengthways, the ridges along their long metal bodies looking eerily like prison bars in the dim lighting. Others were lined up with the doors facing towards Shiro and Keith. The haphazard arrangement looked unnervingly unstable. Keith wondered if a strong gust of wind might push one of the units those critical few inches over the weight threshold and bring the entire structure crashing to the ground.

There was red graffiti decorating the bottom few units, painting angry gashes into the purple, the dripping lines of paint only adding to the appearance of wounds. It made Keith feel twitchy, and his fingers fidgeted nervously by his sides. Something felt distinctly… off.

His eyes wandered over the construct to fall on the grey container in the middle of the base. The lack of colour made it blend into rather than stand out against the blocks of purple, something that Keith attributed to the darkness of the docks. The only reason he noticed it at all was because of the soft glow emitting from the tail end.

“We’ll have to circle round to see the entrance,” Shiro assessed.

Keith agreed. As it was, the grey unit was lengthways to them. The moonlight made the ridges along its edge cast deep shadows against each other, creating the illusion that they were deeper. Wordlessly, Shiro motioned for them to circle back.

The two of them quickly picked a path through the surrounding units, making sure to pause before sprinting round any corners to avoid bumping into any rogue patrols. It couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but to Keith it felt like an eternity. Every passing second was another moment that Lance was in the hands of those vicious Galra thugs. They could be doing anything to him. What if they arrived and they were _seconds_ too late?

A hand in the middle of his chest stopped Keith’s thoughts dead, and he refocused his mind to take in Shiro pressed against the edge of a container, his finger pressed to his lips.

Keith could faintly hear talking, and he realised with a start that it must be one of the Galra. He dropped to a crouch, the fingertips of one hand digging into the rough strewn pebbles as he strained to catch the speaker’s words.

“-lly think that we wouldn’t find you? I thought that your bravado was all for show. How very disappointing.”

There was an audible _thwap_ followed by a yelp of pain. Keith’s body moved of its own accord, lunging forward in a charge before something solid caught his waist.

“Easy, Keith,” Shiro hissed, yanking him back with an impressive amount of strength.

“That was Lance!” Keith whisper-shouted. He squirmed against Shiro’s grip like a rat in a cage. “They’re hurting him!”

“I know,” Shiro agreed. Even through his lowered voice, Keith could hear the bitterness in the older man’s tone. “Lance can take a punch though. If we want to get him out of here, we have to be smart about this.”

Keith willed himself to calm down, allowing Shiro’s cool calculating demeanour to wash over him. He didn’t exactly feel reassured, but it was good to know that someone who’d been up against the Galra before was with him.

Shiro slackened his hold around Keith’s waist enough to allow them both to eek around the edge of the container.

Keith eyes zeroed in on Lance in less than the time it took for his heart to contract.

Low-watt lights hung in the corners of the steel unit, lighting the whole interior in a dim yellow. Lance was sitting on a chair next to a desk in the middle of the shipping container, head bowed, shoulders hunched low. There was blood dripping from his mouth, trailing in dark rivulets down his chin to stain the front of his grey shirt like oil.

He wasn’t restrained. He didn’t need to be, Keith realised.

The unit wasn’t huge, but there were enough Galra in there to prevent even the thought of escape. Lance’s leg was bouncing wildly, and the hands clasped in his lap fidgeted with a shakiness that was more than just agitation. Lance was scared.

Keith wanted to run to him. He could feel the adrenaline crackling through his veins like electricity, powering up his bones. His muscles felt like a tightly wound spring, ready for release, and he bobbed on the balls of his toes. Lance’s name clawed up the back on his throat, punching behind Keith’s teeth and his jaw ached to let it cry out of his mouth.

“We need to thin out those men,” Shiro whispered.

He turned to Keith, straightening up to hold the smaller man’s gaze evenly.

“I’m going to loop around and create a distraction. Hopefully it’ll draw enough of them out for you to go in and get Lance.”

“I can fight,” Keith assured him.

Shiro gave him a rue smile in response.

“I know. Lance told me.”

Even despite the situation, Keith felt a familiar warmth tingle under his skin. He didn’t allow himself time to dwell on it though, straightening up to listen to the end of Shiro’s plan.

“You double back. If you can sneak along the edge of the unit, the ones that are left won’t see you coming from the mouth of the unit.”

Shiro reached behind himself to pull the gun out of his waistband. Keith felt nervousness rock through his body like an earthquake, and he hoped Shiro hadn’t noticed his random convulsion. Shiro checked the number of bullets in the clip with the ease of someone who knew their way around a shooting alley, hands moving swiftly over the offensive weapon. Clicking off the safety, he pulled back the slide and cocked the hammer before fixing Keith with a stern look.

Keith didn’t breath. Shiro looked… scary to say the least. It melted in an instant however, when the older man raised his eyebrows with a lean of his head as he cast his eyes down, as if to say “here goes nothing”.

“There’s twelve men in there. Wait for the second wave of goons to leave. Count how many go. Don’t strike until you think you can win.”

And without another word, Shiro took off at a sprint, disappearing behind a row of units. A couple of seconds later, Keith heard a single gun shot go off, ripping through the silent night like a fissure through rock as it echoed around the steel containers. Two men raced out of the mouth of the grey unit, guns drawn.

As soon as they disappeared in pursuit of Shiro, Keith turned around, sprinting back to where they had first seen the grey container. A second shot pierced through the air just as Keith reached the location, in time for him to see a following four men exit the unit.

_Six down, six to go._

“You probably think that’s the cavalry here to save you,” Keith heard the speaker say.

His tone was mocking, smug. Keith felt hatred boil inside him like tar.

“That’s because you don’t understand yet.”

The speaker’s voice dropped very low. Keith could imagine him leaning in to smirk at Lance.

“You’re not walking away from this.”

Keith’s muscles ached with the effort of holding his body back. There was a voice in the back of his head screaming at him to go charging in, but the rational part of his brain seemed to have a direct link to his legs. It was telling him to wait. It was telling him that he couldn’t take on six guys with guns by himself.

More gunshots tore through the network of shipping containers, the sounds ricocheting off the cold metal, and Keith winced. A horrible thought occurred to him.

What if Shiro didn’t make it?

Keith stepped on the thought with great effort, shoving it firmly out of his mind.

He had to focus on getting Lance. Shiro knew what he was doing, he could take care of himself.

_I hope._

“You were so confident,” the speaker crooned. “So _insistent_ that you were going to win. Did the driver know, I wonder? What was his name? Keith?”

Keith heard Lance snarl. The noise was trodden on with a chuckle from the speaker.

“Oh but of course you know his name! You two are _friendly_ after all. Don’t think we didn’t notice.”

Lance didn’t respond, but the quiet tapping form inside the unit made Keith think that he’d started bouncing his leg again.

“I wonder if he knows how much money he lost us? Maybe we should pay him a visit and ask?”

“You stay away from him, Sendak!” Lance barked.

His voice didn’t waver, sounding out harshly through his silence like a bolt of lightning. It was greeted with another loud smack. Even from where he was crouched, Keith heard Lance’s teeth click together.

 _“You watch your tone!”_ Sendak seethed.

Pure hatred surged through Keith’s veins like liquid fire. His fingers tightened into shaking fists as he willed himself to stay put.

“You!” Sendak shouted, and Keith jumped before he realised the man must have been talking to another henchman. “Go and find out what has happened to the others.”

Keith heard footsteps across the concrete, and he watched as another three men went off in pursuit of Shiro.

_Three left. GO NOW!_

Keith waited until the men disappeared behind the row of units before darting across the short distance to the grey unit. He flattened himself against the edge, feeling the dips of the ridges through his jacket. Barely even daring to breath, he melted his footsteps into the concrete, trying to make as little noise as possible.

“Such a pity,” Sendak cooed. “We had such high hopes for you. You could have gone so far.”

“Not with you,” Lance spat. “I’m not some bottom-feeding scum that preys on others.”

Sendak scoffed.

“You act as if you’re so much better than us. And yet you lied to those you love, you deceived your friends. You used your skills to cheat people out of money. You’re no different to the Galra. You think that just because you parade around in the daylight making a fool out of yourself you can cling to some semblance of innocence.”

Sendak let out a bitter laugh.

“Such _arrogance._ ”

Lance spat loudly, letting out of string of angry Spanish. Keith didn’t need to understand the language to hear the venom laced between the words. The torrent of chatter was cut off with a choked cry, and Keith heard the legs of Lance’s chair scrape forward.

“You can’t hide behind your language, boy,” Sendak rumbled. “But why don’t we try and curb that insolence?”

Lance let out a terrified gasp as the feet of the remaining men began to move. Keith leant against the container, edging as close to the opening as he dared, trying to listen to the men’s position. Lance made a strangled noise as he struggled, his feet scraping against the metal flooring.

“Hold his hand out!” Sendak shouted, and Keith heard something thud against the table top.

 _“NO!”_ Lance screamed. There was a singular note of raw terror in his voice that cut through Keith very soul.

And then he was moving.

Keith launched himself into the mouth of the grey unit, his muscles feeling almost weightless with the sheer volume of adrenaline pumping through them. He had half a second to take in a man holding Lance’s arm on the table, the other holding the tall boy in a headlock as Sendak loomed over all of them. He saw the glint of what can only be described as a butcher’s knife in Sendak’s fist before he charged on pure instinct.

Keith threw his entire weight into the first man, ripping him off Lance’s arm as he tackled him down to the floor. The two went flying, sprawling across the metal floor as Keith’s momentum carried them further into the shipping container. The man gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, and Keith took the opportunity to sit up and land one very solid right hook across the man’s face. He felt the cheekbone crumple under his knuckles as the man’s head swivelled like a nodding nod before he went limp.

Keith heard a cry from behind him and he turned to see Lance biting down on the hand of his headlock-er hard enough to draw blood. The Galra screamed, yanked his hand free as he skittered backwards. Lance turned on a dime, lifting the chair he’d been sitting on and flat out _smacking_ the man with it.

The chair didn’t shatter like it did in Hollywood movies. In fact, it stayed almost completely in one piece, save for one support from the back flying loose as it connected with the Galra’s cranium. It flew across the room, shattering one of the lights in the corner of the container. The man let out a pained wail before collapsing against the unit wall, unconscious.

And suddenly, there was Sendak. Knife raised above his head, glinting wickedly in the diminished lighting. His mouth was curled upwards in a pointy-toothed grin of triumph.

 _“Lance!”_ Keith cried.

He leapt across the distance between them, letting the energy carry him into a slide as he swept Sendak’s legs out from under him. Sadly, Keith misjudged his own propulsion.

Before he could get clear, the large man came crashing down on top of Keith. He threw out a hand to catch himself.

You can guess which.

Keith sucked in a sharp gasp of pure shock as the knife sank into the floor not a hair’s breadth away from his ear. Sendak’s mass landed on him with crushing amount of weight, and Keith struggled limply underneath the larger man’s form. He didn’t even have time to consider how close he’d come to having his jugular sliced when Sendak sat back on his heels and wrapped his thick fingers around Keith’s throat.

“The sheer arrogance of you children,” he growled, grip tightening.

Keith opened his mouth to try and breath, but the hands around his throat were crushing his windpipe, trapping what little breath he had in his throat. Keith clawed at Sendak’s hands, pushed against his shoulders. His legs kicked out helplessly as his vision blurred, darkness creeping in around the edges.

His face felt hot, and he could feel the pressure around his skull increase as his blood searched for oxygen.

He couldn’t breathe.

Keith couldn’t _breathe._

He opened his mouth in a last ditch effort to suck in air when suddenly-

“Let him go.”

Sendak when as still as a statue. He didn’t let go, but his bruising grip slackened enough for Keith to gasp in half a lungful of air. Keith could feel skin scraping under his fingernails as he raked against the fingers around his neck.

His eyes swivelled in his skull to assess what was going on when he saw it.

Lance was stood behind Sendak, his face darker than Keith had ever seen as he pressed the muzzle of a gun against the base of the large man’s neck.

“I said,” Lance spoke, his voice as cold as ice. “Let. Him. _Go._ ”

Sendak barked out a laugh.

“You won’t shoot me,” he drawled.

To prove his point, Lance very slowly cocked the hammer.

“Before you ask: I know how to use this,” Lance bit out.

Keith continued to push against Sendak’s shoulders, gasping in the tiny hiccups of air that he could, trying desperately to stay conscious. He felt Sendak’s fingers tighten again, and tears streamed out of the corners of his eyes, before the pressure against his windpipe abruptly let up.

Keith’s gasp was rabid. He twisted sideways, coughing harshly between great lungfuls of air that he choked on. His head swam with the influx of oxygen, his vision dimming and illuminating again. Keith hadn’t even caught his breath when he saw Sendak reach for the knife sticking out of the unit floor when-

_BANG!_

Sendak’s scream shredded through the entire unit, and he crumpled sideways, clutching at what was left of his hand.

“HOLY SHIT!” Lance shouted.

He was staring at the gun in his shaking hands, his fingers loose, and if he were trying to touch as little of the weapon as possible without actually letting it go. Lance’s head snapped up, his gaze flicking between Keith, Sendak and the gun.

It settled on Keith, and he darted forwards, pulling one of Keith’s toned arms around his shoulders and he wrapped and hand around his waist. Keith felt like a dead weight as Lance dragged him back out of the unit.

Sendak roared with unadulterated fury, turning to pick up the knife with his other hand as he took a step towards the boys. Lance let out what might have been a garbled war cry, his grip around Keith’s waist tightening as he turned them, putting himself firmly between Keith and Sendak.

“FREEZE!”

Sendak stopped mid-charge at the voice, knife still raised.

“Don’t take another step!”

Keith blinked blearily, lifting his head as much as he could to see what was happening. Lance let out a delirious bubble of laughter as he saw the circle of police officers surrounding the entrance to the unit. He dropped the gun by his feet, taking a few deliberate steps away from it.

“Put. The knife. Down. Get on your knees, hands on your head. NOW!” a particularly gruff officer shouted.

Sendak complied, slowly sinking to the ground. His lips stay peeled back, baring his teeth. He was quickly cuffed, two officers hauling him to his feet.

“Are you boys okay?”

Lance and Keith turned to see a female officer addressing them. They exchanged a look, unsure of how to answer. The officer seemed to understand, and she gestured for them to walk with her.

“Let’s get you boys to the paramedics.”

They hadn’t made it five yards when the heard Sendak shout.

“This doesn’t end with me, Sanchez! This goes higher than me! There are more of us. You can’t outrun us!”

His screams were desperate, a condemned man’s plea to be heard to the last. But there was a smugness sitting in them like poison tipped arrows, a truth that demanded to be known.

“We will find you!” Sendak promised.

Lance tried not to shudder. Keith felt the taller boy’s body tense, and he turned to tuck his head into the crook of Lance’s shoulder, resting his forehead against his boyfriend’s jumping pulse.

_I’m here._

“Officer,” Keith croaked.

His words scraped the inside of his throat.

“My friend was chased by some Galra thugs. Takashi Shiorgane. Is he-“

“He’s fine,” the officer assured them, and Keith sagged with relief.

“He helped us round up a number of Galra members, actually. He’s been a huge help to the police force tonight.”

Keith finally allowed himself the barest hint of a smile as he walked with Lance towards a waiting ambulance.

 

The paramedics had insisted Keith sit with an oxygen tank for at least half an hour.

Between inhaling a crap ton of smoke and getting choked out, he’d had far less air than was healthy all within the space of a few hours.

Lance’s injuries were surprisingly minor considering what he’d been through. A few large contusions over his torso, and a swollen split lip. He’d also been warned that he might have concussion, and to try and stay awake as long as possible.

The police had taken statements from both of them. Keith had unreservedly glossed over the street races, as well as Lance’s involvement with the Galra, simply stating what he’d seen happen: His boyfriend had been bundled into a car and driven away.

Allura had arrived with Hunk and Pidge a few minutes after to deliver their statements as well. Whilst the officer was distracted with Hunk, Keith took the opportunity to speak to the silver-haired woman.

“How did you get the police here without revealing your races?” he murmured, shuffling a little closer to her to speak out the corner of his oxygen mask.

“This is my property,” Allura said confidently. “It’s a vast expanse of land. I don’t always know what goes on here. But the Galra were trespassing, and that was a crime in itself. Anything else they get charged with is bonus.”

Keith smiled at her cleverness, placing the oxygen mask back over his mouth.

The drive back had been quiet. Allura drove Keith and Lance in her purple Land Rover whilst the others made their own way.

No one mentioned Blue, and Lance didn’t bring it up. Keith wondered if he even knew.

As it turned out, Shiro had called ahead to tell Maria and Alfonse about what had happened. It seemed as if he’d kept the details to a minimum, though it apparently didn’t matter when Maria came storming out of the house, her eyes blazing as she stomped up to Allura’s still-moving vehicle.

“LANCE SANCHEZ!” she roared, ripping open the passenger door and forcibly yanking Lance out by the ear.

“AH! Mama! I have concussion oh my GOD!’ Lance yelped.

Maria didn’t seem to give a damn, and Keith watched with shocked horror as she swiped the shoe off her foot and hit Lance around the head with it, concussion be damned.

“You messed with the Galra FOR MONEY???” she screeched.

Keith winced as he climbed out of the car. He was sure Maria’s voice had gone super sonic.

“Lo siento, mama! LO SIENTO!” Lance whined as he ducked another swipe of the shoe.

“Maria…” Allura started, raising her hands in a peace-making gesture.

Maria dropped the shoe suddenly, arms lashing out the grab Lance securely by the shoulders and pull him into a shatteringly tight embrace. Lance’s arms hovered stiffly in the air, thrown but the abrupt change in behaviour

“ _Estupido!”_ she hissed. “We can get another house, Lance! We can’t get another one of you!”

Lance’s arms dropped by his sides, swinging slightly before his lifted them to return his mother’s embrace.

“Lo siento,” he mumbled.

His voice was muffled against Maria’s shoulder. Alfonse stepped up behind them, brushing a hand through Lance’s hair as he wound his arms around his wife and son.

Keith looked away from the intimate moment, before he heard Maria let out a soft sigh. A circle of warmth curled around his waist and he looked down to see Maria pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you for helping my boy, Keith,” she breathed.

Keith let his hands settle on her shoulders, but the cold feeling in his stomach was back. Maria should not be thanking him. He’d helped Lance get himself into this mess in the first place.

Keith’s eyes connected with Alfonse’s, and Lance’s father gave Keith a grateful nod.

“You!” Maria barked, releasing Keith to round on her son. “To bed. NOW. You are grounded!”

Lance gaped

“I am twenty! You can’t ground me!”

“Like hell I can’t!” Maria yelled. “I will ground you until you’re sixty, so help me. I won’t have my son getting involved in gang crime.”

Lance closed his mouth, for once declining to argue. His eyes locked with Keith’s and he paused mid step, one foot half raised.

Maria followed his gaze, and she shook her head firmly.

“Grounded means no boyfriend, either. I’m sorry Keith,” she said, addressing the dark-haired boy directly.

Keith nodded his understanding when Lance interrupted the exchange.

“Mama,” Lance said softly. “Keith lives alone.”

Maria’s eyes widened as her mouth pressed into a tight line. She looked between the two boys a few times, her eyes calculating. Keith thought she was going to snap at him for a moment, before she dropped her hands off her hips.

“Come here.”

Keith realised Maria was speaking to him, and she lifted a hand to beckon him towards her.

Stepping forwards, Keith got close enough for Maria to give him a little shove towards the house and Lance.

“One night,” she said authoritatively, fixing both boys with a stern glare.

Lance smiled at her appreciatively, lacing his fingers loosely with Keith’s as the made their way back towards the house.

Keith felt… numb to be honest. The whole series of events felt very far away, as if he’d seen them in a movie he’d watched the week before. They were present, but disconnected somehow.

He was aware of Lance eyeing him, but they didn’t exchange words.

Once they’d made it to Lance’s room, Keith dropped his jacket off his shoulders, folding it over the back of Lance’s desk chair as he kicked off his shoes and jeans. After a moment of deliberation, he pulled his shirt off as well, leaving himself stood in his boxers. It wasn’t intimate the way it had been before. It was just that he wanted to remove as much from the interaction with the Galra that he could. Keith was aware of Lance watching him, and he cocked his head in question before he noticed Lance’s stiff posture, arms held tightly against his sides.

Wordlessly, Keith helped Lance peel the shirt off his body, taking time to thread his arms through the sleeves so as not to hurt Lance anymore than he had been.

Once they were both in their boxers, Keith climbed into Lance’s bed, pulling the cover back to allow Lance to crawl in beside him. Keith turned on his side so that he and Lance were face to face.

They stared at each other in silence for a few minutes. The air hung heavy between them, and a thousand words danced behind Keith’s lips, unable to work their way out. Lance’s blue eyes were hovering over his features, like he was taking time to remember every curve of Keith’s face.

Finally, Lance’s eyes rifted up to meet Keith’s, azure over navy. Flowers over the ocean.

Slowly, so slowly, Keith reached up to brush his thumb over the split in Lance’s lip. The brown boy closed his eyes as the pad of Keith’s thumb brushed over the angry red fissure, and he leaned into the touch slightly.

“Are you okay?” Keith whispered.

Lance’s eyes slid open, and Keith’s breath stuck in his throat for what was one time too many that evening.

Lance caught Keith’s hand in his own, turning his head to press a kiss to the palm. Keith felt Lance’s tongue slide out, tracing over the crescent shaped cuts he’d made with his own fingernails before he pushed his lips against them.

“I’m okay,” he murmured. “Are you alright.”

Keith was halfway to nodding when Lance let go of his hand to skim his fingertips over Keith’s throat. The dark-haired boy tensed at the contact. Ah, it was tender.

He knew he’d have bruises in the shape of Sendak’s fingers there tomorrow. But as Lance traced over the swollen flesh, his touch impossibly light, Keith couldn’t help but melt into the contact.

“I’m alright,” he assured.

Lance gave him a vaguely sceptical look, a flick of his eyes, a miniscule tilt of his head.

Keith brazenly curled his fingers over Lance’s waist, a hesitant asking of permission. Lance responded without such hesitation, curling himself around Keith, tucking his face against the other boy’s collarbone.

“I’m alright,” Keith said again, more truthfully this time.

Fatigue sank into his bones like ink sinks in water, and he could feel the insistent tug of exhaustion pulling him towards a dark abyss of sleep. And before he slipped under, he breathed out two words that chased away any predatory nightmares.

“You’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know I KNOW.  
> As much as I love a big kiss and cry and an OH MY GOD YOU'RE ALIVE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, there's usually just a sorta... slowing down after traumatic events? Like you feel weirdly disconnected to what happened.  
> So all that's gonna settle in later and yes we will get lot of kisses and cuddles, don't worry :D


	21. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith comfort each other, Blue comes back, and Iverson makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was SO DETERMINED to get this chapter out today so if there are any mistakes I'm so sorry! Merry Christmas everyone!!!

Maria was fuming.

She hadn’t slept a wink, too furious with her son to even consider lying down on the lumpy mattress next to Alfonse and let it all drift away for a few hours.

Whilst she was relieved that Lance hadn’t come to any grievous harm, she was overwhelmed with anger at his actions. Even more so, she was angry with herself for not recognising something sooner.

The money, the amount of times she’d worried to Lance about losing the house, the firm reassurance from him that everything would be fine.

Maria cursed herself. There was nothing she could do about it now. She wouldn’t excuse Lance’s actions – they were reckless and short sighted and she would most certainly be having words with him – but she recognised that he wasn’t entirely to blame.

Maria’s fingers rapped ferociously at the kitchen table as she sipped on a long gone cold cup off coffee, grimacing as the flavour jarred with the lukewarm temperature. When the clock on the kitchen wall finally clicked to 9am, she set the cup down with a dull thud, pulling herself to her feet.

Her gaze passed over the threadbare carpets in the hall, the cracks in the plaster on the walls. How many times had she complained to Lance about not having enough money to get them fixed?

Maria’s internal chastising quietened when she reached Lance’s bedroom door. Knocking gently, she waited a few seconds for a response before pressing her weight against the wood. The door slide open with the rugged whoosh of wood across carpet, a wave crashing on the shore. Her mouth was already open to call out her son’s name when she stopped.

Lance and Keith lay together in the bed, the duvet pulled down just enough to expose their bare shoulders. Lance’s face was pressed into Keith collarbone, his brows furrowed a fraction. Even from across the room, Maria could see the angry purple bruises blossoming around Keith’s throat, marking the shape of fingers across his pale skin. Her breath caught at the thought of someone throttling such a quiet boy, and a hot wave of pure maternal protectiveness washed through her right to the bones. Keith’s arms were wound tightly around Lance, his head tilted down to fully wrap the other boy in his embrace. They way they were coiled around each other made it look as if they were holding onto one another for dear life, and Maria wondered if they’d fallen asleep that way or if they’d simply come together in the night.

She felt a quiver of nausea at what might have happened to the two of them the evening before. She wouldn’t push, Maria decided then. But she would listen if they wanted to talk about it.

Happy with her resolution, Maria silently backed out of the room, sliding the door closed behind her.

 

 

Three hours earlier

 

Keith woke with a jolt, sucking in a rasping breath as semi-conscious fear shook through his mind. His arms instinctively tightened around the warm mass settled against his chest as he caught his breath, muscles quivering with lingering anxiety. The warm shape encased in Keith’s hold shifted with a soft whine of protest. The events of last night slowly came back to Keith, the sluggishness enveloping his freshly woken mind beginning to mould itself into something coherent.

The Galra. Blue. Sendak. Lance.

_Lance._

The grip around Lance’s shoulders slackened slightly, though Keith still held the other boy firmly against himself.

“Hey,” he croaked before clearing his throat and saying louder, “Hey.”

And okay _ow._

Keith’s throat ached fiercely, his small cough sending a thick burn spiralling through his muscles.

“Hey,” Lance whispered back. He sounded surprisingly alert.

“What time is it?” Keith rasped, blinking away some of the sleep dust from his bleary eyes.

“Just a bit before 6am,” Lance responded. “Sleep okay?”

Keith forewent the option of talking in favour of shaking his head gently. His dreams had been tumultuous to say the least, and he felt hot and shivery all at once. There was a cloying stickiness to his skin, the kind that only came with stress. Keith felt like he’d been varnished.

“I didn’t think so,” Lance said quietly. “You kept jerking and muttering and you were holding onto me really tight.”

Keith loosened his grip a little more in response to Lance’s words, as much as he dared without letting the brown boy go.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Did I hurt you?”

Lance shook his head, the ruffled strands of his hair tickling Keith’s chin as they moved. He nestled closer to Keith, nuzzling carefully into the dark haired boy’s shoulder, careful to avoid touching his neck.

“Did you sleep at all?” Keith asked.

He tried to crane his neck to look down, but immediately regretted it, the action sending a bolt of pain down his jugular. Keith winced, letting his head sink back down onto the pillow in defeat.

“Couldn’t,” Lance mumbled. “Too wired. I got to look at you all night though, so it was worth it.”

“Watching me sleep now? Honestly, Lance. This crush of yours is embarrassing,” Keith smirked. “I’m embarrassed _for_ you.”

Lance huffed out a little laugh, raising his arm to swat Keith on the shoulder. He seemed to think better of it halfway through though, and instead his fingers curved gently around the pale skin of Keith’s upper arm.

Keith breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

This was good, this was typical Keith/Lance banter. He could understand this. He could deal with it.

They lay there in silence for a few minutes, Lance wrapped in Keith’s arms, their breathing synchronised and ambient.

“How’s your neck?” Lance asked.

A little pinch formed between Keith’s eyebrows as he let his eyelids slide shut. He was tired, and sleep was a warm blanket lovingly trying to embrace him.

“Sore,” he whispered, voice scratchy even through his breath.

Lance stayed silent for a moment. Keith thought he might have drifted back off to sleep until Lance trailed his fingers down to Keith’s waist, looping his arm around Keith’s back to pull them flush against each other.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed.

Keith blinked his eyes open again, trying to shift so he could look Lance in the eye. Lance defeated him though, hiding his face determinedly in Keith’s shoulder even as he squeezed his waist tighter.

“I’m so sorry, Keith. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have been there and Sendak wouldn’t have-“

Keith hushed him, lifting a hand to brush his fingers tenderly through Lance’s hair.

“It’s not your fault,” he murmured gently.

He could tell Lance was biting his lip without even looking at him.

“Dude, you almost _died,_ ” Lance whispered so quietly, voice ragged. “Sendak was gonna to kill you.”

Keith tilted his head to press a loving kiss against Lance’s temple, ignoring the steady burn in his neck muscles. The small action was worth it to offer Lance such a simple reassurance.

“Yeah but you saved me.”

Lance poked him in the gut and Keith grunted.

“Pretty sure you saved me first,” Lance argued.

Keith chuckled, his fingers leaving Lance’s hair to brush feather light touches over his cheekbone. There was already a bruise forming, angry purple over red gouging a path under Lance’s skin all the way from his jaw to his brow bone. Keith wanted to kiss the marks away, to lave his tongue over the injured tissue until it was gone and there was only Lance left.

Lance tilted his head up finally, staring Keith in the eyes. His gaze flickered almost imperceptibly down to Keith’s lips and up again, a question he’d stopped himself from asking.

Keith saved him the worry, tilting his chin down as he rewound his arms around Lance’s torso to pull them back together.

Their lips met in the lightest of brushes. It was new, it was different this time. Keith felt frayed and raw, like an exposed nerve, all the emotions from the previous evening hitting him in full force. Lance pushed against him, slotting their lips together harder. He was extremely careful to avoid touching Keith’s neck, not wanting to aggravate the swollen flesh any more. Keith sensed Lance’s hesitation. Without breaking the kiss, he reached down to lace his fingers around Lance’s elbow, pulling the tall boy’s arm a little tighter around him. Lance responded in kind, sighing into Keith’s mouth as he hooked a leg around the back of Keith’s knee. Very gently, he rolled the dark haired boy onto his back, taking care not to jolt the pillows as Lance settled his weight over him. Keith let his head roll back, inadvertently exposing his throat and Lance winced.

Thick black bruises wound themselves around Keith’s throat like ropes, spelling out the grip from Sendak’s fingers. Keith gulped self-consciously, instinctively moving one hand up to try and cover them. Lance caught his wrist before it got there, lifting Keith’s fingers to his mouth so that he could brush a kiss against the other boy’s knuckles. Dipping his head, Lance softly, so softly, traced a line with his tongue all the way from the bruises on Keith’s throat up to his ear. Keith’s breathing was becoming a little ragged, and he let out a shuddering gasp as Lance nibbled on his earlobe.

He couldn’t really help the twitch of interest between his legs, not when Lance was staring down at him with those blue blue eyes and making tiny little rocking motions with his hips.

Keith wanted to drown himself in that gaze and forget the memory of how his vision darkened as fingers crushed his neck. He wanted to let Lance become his entire world, flooding his senses, overwhelming him, if even for just a few moments.

But when Lance’s hand began wandering down his abdomen, Keith panicked.

“Stop!”

The word jumped out of his mouth as a slightly strangled gasp before he’d even registered it in his mind, a hushed and frantic knee jerk response. Lance froze, his hand stopping its descent instantly. He surveyed Keith worriedly, eyes widening and lips slightly parted.

“Not like this,” Keith breathed, hoping Lance would understand. “Not with the Galra as an excuse.”

Comprehension dawned across Lance’s features, and he all but ripped his hand away from Keith’s stomach like he’d been burned. He rolled away from Keith, curling in on himself as he tried to take up as little of the mattress as possible.

“I’m sorr-“

“Don’t apologise.”

Keith reached across the space between them, reaching for Lance and his warmth, seeking the physical contact. The peace making gesture melted the tension from Lance’s posture, his features slackened from stricken worry into thinly veiled wariness. To drive the point home, Keith scooted a little closer to Lance, the mattress dipping with the shift in weight.

“I do want to,” he assured. “Just not now. Not like this.”

Lance nodded solemnly, still looking like he’d offended the queen. Keith rolled across the short space left between them to cup Lance’s face and draw him into a long sweet kiss. Lance’s lingering apprehension dissolved, leaving him pliant and soft in Keith’s arms once again. Only then did Keith pull back, resting their foreheads together so he could look Lance in the eyes.

“It’s just- When I couldn’t sleep I just kept thinking… I got so close to losing you. I could have lost you and I know that might sound selfish because it would probably suck worse for you being dead and whatever but I kept thinking about how you could have been there one minute and then you could have been just gone, yknow? You could’ve gone without knowing how much... I just wanted to give you something to show you how much you mean to me.”

Lance’s words were stitched together with intent, bursting at the seams as they tried to hold back their true meaning, and Keith felt hot all over again.

“I’m so sorry you got hurt because of me,” Lance mumbled hoarsely as he buried his face into Keith chest.

A little thrill shot under Keith’s skin all the way down to his toes as his heart swelled, leaving him tingly all over. They were silent for a few minutes, Lance’s breath steadying as he lay tucked under Keith’s arm. Keith felt wired, his mind firing electric emotions all around his brain. Keith could feel them rattling iff the inside of his skull, and he chewed the inside of his cheek, mentally preparing himself for his next words.

“If you say it, I’ll say it back,” Keith promised.

Lance didn’t speak for a few moments, and Keith started to doubt himself. Perhaps he’d read the situation wrong? Perhaps Lance wasn’t trying to say something else and Keith was just jumping to conclusions. It took him a full ten seconds to realise that Lance had fallen asleep, his shoulders rising and falling as he breathed deeply. Keith sneaked a glance down at the taller boy.

Lance looked exhausted. There were deep purple bags staining the skin beneath his eyes, and there was a fierce pinch between his eyebrows. Keith tentatively lifted one hand to brush his thumb softly over the crease. Lance’s tension melted under Keith’s touch, and he unconsciously nuzzled closer, his expression blissed out. Keith allowed himself a small smile as he pressed a gentle kiss to Lance’s temple before winding his arms tightly around the tall boy’s broad shoulders, tilting his body so that he could tangle their legs together.

Keith thought about al that Lance had given him over the past few weeks. How long had it been now? A month? Two?

In that time Lance had not only inspired Keith to up his game in racing, but he’d made sure that Keith had experienced what it was like to have a family. The rush of warm pleasure and validation that coursed through Keith threw him for a moment.

Keith felt a squirming sense of conflicting selfishness – He was happy that he’d met Lance, become a part of his life, and ultimately ended up helping him. But Keith also felt as if he were invading, that Lance’s family was not his own and that he shouldn’t get used to it.

It was a small, insecure little part of himself that Keith was ashamed of. But that didn’t stop it from whispering in the back of his head like a poison, threatening to consume him. Keith’s arms somehow tightened even more around Lance’s frame, and he dropped his chin to bury his face in Lance’s soft brunette hair.

 _Don’t get used to it,_ the voice breathed in his ear. Keith shushed it harshly in his head, letting the scent of Lance’s shampoo mixed with sweat and grime from the night before glaze over his conscious mind like a comforting blanket.

Sleep came back to him easily, like the tide coming in. Keith let his traitorous thoughts slip away to the blissful void of dreaming until he was aware of nothing more than the warmth coiled against his chest.

He barely heard Lance’s sleep-slurred mumble.

“Love you.”

 

 

Lance was allowed to go into work the next day, despite being grounded.

Maria had made a big show of insisting that it was only because Shiro was “practically her own son” and that she would never let him down that Lance was permitted to leave the Sanchez homestead.

Lance had smiled meekly at his mother, rubbing the back of his neck when his father had unsmilingly clapped him on the shoulder. Keith could sympathise.

Alfonse didn’t seem to be a man who spoke frivolously, and his silence on the entire mess with the Galra was clearing setting Lance on edge.

Allura had someone managed to deposit Red at the homestead sometime last night, so Keith was able to drive Lance to the garage. The taller boy was uncharacteristically quiet during the trip, occasionally sneaking glances at Keith out of the corner of his eyes when he thought Keith wasn’t looking. Not that his sneakiness mattered all that much, when his hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting. Keith was tempted to snap at him and demand to know what was wrong, but the hazy memory of the two little words firmly cemented his jaw shut.

When Red rolled into the garage bay, Keith and Lance were welcomed by a slightly unnerving sight: Shiro was stood in front of a rather sever looking police officer, his hands gesturing in an appeasing sort of way that usually meant Shiro was trying to make peace. Keith managed to catch the tail end of the conversation just as he turned off Red’s engine and stepped out of the driver’s side.

“-ling you, it was stolen last week!”

Shiro sounded mildly exasperated, despite his calm demeanour, and it was evident that whatever the conversation was about, it was one that was being repeated.

The officer’s eyes swivelled to Red as soon as the two boys stepped out of the car, and it was a split second before the zeroed in on Lance.

“Mr Sanchez!” the officer called, ignoring Shiro as he strode purposefully towards the lanky boy.

Lance visibly blanched, making a great effort not to bite his lip as the policeman advanced on him. He was a good few inches taller than Lance, and had a scowl so deeply ingrained on his face that one of his eyes seemed to be sealed shut.

“Lance!” Shiro called warningly as he made his way over. “This is Police Commander Iverson. He’s here to ask about-“

“I’ve got a few questions for you, boy,” Iverson snapped, interrupting Shiro. “I want to know exactly why your vehicle was found alight on the Altean estate the same evening that you were found with a pack of Galra thugs!”

Lance’s eyes bugged slightly at the thinly veiled accusation, and Keith watched him put his hands into his pockets with so much effort that they visibly shook.

“H-How do you know it was my car?” he queried in a tentatively innocent tone.

“Part of the number plate was found near the wreckage,” Iverson replied.

Lance winced at the word “wreckage”, but schooled his features into something akin to nonchalance.

“I was just explaining to Commander Iverson,” Shiro interjected. “That your car was stolen from the garage after you checked it in for repairs.”

“And yet you haven’t filed a report for a missing automobile,” Iverson challenged. “Likely story is that this one-“ he jabbed a thumb in Lance’s direction, “knows something about the street races that have been happening.”

Keith glowered at Iverson. As if Lance hadn’t been through enough. Keith could feel his hands clench into fists, and when he spoke there was a definitive bite to his tone.

“You have no proof of that.”

Iverson’s attention turned on Keith, as if he were on just acknowledging his presence. His gaze lingered at the bruises on Keith’s neck, a surly tut spouting from his lips.

“Oh? And I suppose you know nothing about it either?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Keith replied coolly, which was a feat considering.

“I will not be lied to, boy!” Iverson barked, voice ringing out through the garage’s echoing acoustics. “Whether this is a case of insurance fraud or gang crime, I _will_ get to the bottom of it, so help me.”

“I’ve already told you, Commander,” Shiro said wearily. “Lance never signed the paperwork to discharge the car. He doesn’t even have a record of paying for services. The vehicle was stolen before we could work on it.”

Iverson didn’t seem pacified. With a heavily resigned sigh, Shiro dropped his head, his arms falling limp by his sides.

“You can take another look at her if you want.”

Shiro stepped behind the lift briefly to press the lower button. Keith wished that he hadn’t.

Lance gaze travelled up to the support and his mouth dropped open in pure despair. Keith couldn’t say his own reaction was much better.

Accompanied by the monotone overture of machinery, what was left of Blue was lowered to the garage floor.

Except she wasn’t blue anymore.

The entire body of the Mustang was a charred black, some areas bubbled in texture where the paint job had boiled in the heat of the inferno. Jagged shards of glass from where the windows had cracked under the heat laced the frames like vicious icicles, and the tyres had been all but melted off the body. As she reached the floor, the car gave a shuddering groan, the metal creaking with the dispersal of weight.

Lance opened his mouth to cry her name, one foot lifting to step forward. Keith was by his side in an instant, wrapping a firm hand around Lance’s elbow to tug him back.

“Don’t,” Keith said in a quiet tone, careful to make sure that Iverson didn’t overhear him. “You’ll positively ID the car.”

Lance didn’t take his eyes off Blue, but he swallowed thickly, and made a serious attempt to look impassive. Keith could feel Lance shaking under his grip, as if all the terror and sadness and _loss_ were thrumming through his veins like a generator.

Iverson scoffed at the sorry sight.

“This your car?” he grunted.

Lance took a moment to respond, and Keith gave him a little shake to bring him back to the present.

“No,” Lance croaked. And then clearing his throat, “No. That’s not my car.”

“Same framework,” Iverson noted. “Not a lot of ’67 Mustang’s about these days.”

“Did you check it’s a Mustang?” Lance asked, voice gravelly. “I doubt the engine would run smoothly if it was a ’67.”

Iverson glared at Lance, like he knew something but he couldn’t prove it. The thought made Keith feel incredibly smug. Lance had said he’d built Blue from hand, so most likely he’d scrounged an engine from another car.

“Well, no,” Iverson admitted. “The engine was that of a Nissan, we believe.”

“So it’s not mine,” Lance insisted.

He was still trembling, despite his firm tone, and Keith let go of his elbow to wind their fingers together. Lance gripped Keith’s hand like it was a lifeline and the dark-haired boy rubbing his thumb soothingly over his knuckles.

Iverson looked like he wanted to argue, his stance twitchy as if he were holding back the urge to lunge at the tan boy. Keith felt his protective instincts kick in, and he imperceptibly tilted his body ready to shield Lance from an impending attack when Shiro came to the rescue.

“If that will be all, Commander.”

Iverson grunted again, giving Shiro a grudging nod.

“I’ll be in touch,” he promised. “That car is evidence, and I will be back to collect it.”

Without another word, he span on his heel and marched out of the garage.

Shiro waited until he’d disappeared from sight before letting out a gust of breath.

“I’m sorry about that. We’ll getting it sorted, Lance, don’t worr-“

Shiro stopped abruptly when he saw the look on Lance’s face.

Keith turned his head as well, and felt his heart seize up. Lance looked as if someone had stolen the sea, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Gently, he pulled out of Keith’s hand to take a step forward, his fingers extended towards Blue.

His let out a shaky breath as his hand made contact with her body, his palm running tenderly over the once smooth surface.

“Lance, we can fix her,” Keith assured him. “We can fix her, right Shiro?”

Shiro didn’t answer. Instead, he just looked at Keith sadly, his mouth set into a grim line.

Lance closed his eyes, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the rusted metal of Blue roof. After a minute, he straightened up, brushing his eyes in an attempt to rid himself of any stray tears that may have escaped the cage of his resolve.

“Thank you, Shiro,” Lance said, voice wavering despite his efforts. “For protecting me.”

“It was nothing-“ Shiro began.

“Not just with the Galra, but with the police as well.”

And then he strode forward and wrapped Shiro in a bone-crushing hug. Keith recognised that hug, he’d been on the receiving end of a Sanchez embrace at the family gathering. Still, this was different. Shiro hesitated a moment, clearly taken aback, before he curled his own arms around Lance’s wiry frame, patting his shoulder blades gently.

“I got you buddy,” he murmured.

Lance let go, stepping back and doing his best impression of a smile.

“Lance-“ Keith said, before Lance stepped towards him and pulled Keith’s lips to his own.

It felt raw and deep, and when Lance pulled back Keith felt like he’d had the wind punched out of him.

“I’ll call you after work,” Lance promised, brushing his fingers through the dark curls at the base of Keith’s neck lovingly for a second.

And then he turned away, grabbing a stray grease rag off a toolbox as he made his way over to a car that was just turning into the bay.

Keith watched him go, feeling completely at a loss. He knew this part of Lance, the part that didn’t want anyone to see his shortcomings. In a way it was admirable, that Lance tried to shoulder his worries and responsibilities on his own. But Keith couldn’t help but hate it. He wanted Lance to lean on him, to let Keith take care of him. He wanted to be someone that Lance sought out for support.

“Shiro,” Keith said suddenly.

Shiro looked up from where he’d also been watching Lance, caught out of his own train of thought.

“Is there really nothing we can do?”

Shiro inhaled slowly, his eyes roaming over Blue’s frame pensively.

“It doesn’t look good,” he admitted. “The entire structure has suffered pretty severe damage. Even if we refitted the engine and all the internal machinery, the body would still make it dangerous to drive because it’s been weakened. We’d need some pretty heavy duty upgrades before we could make her road safe, and that would just be the beginning.”

Keith chewed on Shiro’s words.

“How much are we talking?” he asked.

Shiro eyed him suspiciously, though it was tainted with guilt.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it,” Keith insisted.

“Well I’d happily donate some gear. Lance has done a lot for me and it’s more than he deserves. But even if we were to beg, borrow, and steal, we’d still be talking a few thousand at least.”

“Not a problem,” Keith replied immediately.

Shiro raised his eyebrows _way_ up.

Keith sighed, understandably coming to the conclusion that his unfaltering financial situation required some explanation.

“I have some money saved up from sponsorships back when I was at the Garrison,” he provided. “A friend suggested I invest the money and long story short, I made good. That along with the money I got from racing means that I could essentially live off the interest alone.”

Shiro looked… A little amused really. But he declined commenting on the topic.

“Alright then,” he said simply. “I think we’re going to need to call in a few favours from friends.”

Keith nodded in agreement, reaching to pull his phone out of his pocket.

He paused for a second before adding, “Would you mind keeping this a secret from Lance? I kind of want it to be a surprise.”

Shiro’s amused smile only grew, but he winked at Keith without explanation.

“Of course buddy.”

Keith smiled back, feeling a little better. He was going to put that mischievous glint back into Lance’s eyes if it took his entire bank account to do it.

Flicking through his contacts, Keith climbed back into Red as he put his phone on speaker so he could drive.

“Hello?” a familiar voice at the end of the line answered after a few rings.

“Pidge? It’s Keith.”

“Oh hey, Keith. Are you and Lance alright? You need something?” Pidge asked without any of their usual snark.

“As a matter of fact,” Keith replied with a tenacious smirk. “There is something you can do for me.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter to go folks!  
> I wanna say thank you so much for sticking with me this far! All of your kind comments really make writing this story that much more enjoyable for me, and I've been so overwhelmed with the lovely response from you all.
> 
> Just a heads up - The next chapter will contain smut BUT I will be putting borders between the start and end so that people can skip it if they want.
> 
> I probably won't write the next chapter in time for the 31st so HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY! <3 <3 <3


	22. Red and Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue resurfaces, and Lance and Keith have a change of plan along with a change of heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooo boy this was a doozy to write. I can't believe I wrote over 3k words of smut. How do people write one shots of PWP?? I just can't do it, it's exhausting.
> 
> Speaking of, I've placed line cuts where the smut is in case anyone wants to skip over that part.
> 
> So here it is guys, gals, and nonbinary pals. The final chapter! Hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

Keith felt as if the days were disappearing, slipping out from underneath his awareness with the idle rapidity of running your thumb over the pages of a book. Time flickered around him like leaves falling from a tree, and Keith didn’t have time to pay attention to the colours of Autumn.

Between Lance being grounded and Keith working on Blue, the two boys had barely caught a glimpse of each other over the past three weeks. Lance was under strict orders that he was not to leave the house unless he was working at Shiro’s autoshop, running errands, or picking his siblings up from school. Mama Sanchez had a death glare that could melt concrete, and Keith had seen her use it on Lance when they’d Skyped. Keith himself had flinched when Lance’s bedroom door banged open and he saw Maria standing in the doorway over his boyfriend’s shoulder, looking as if she were trying to ignite the duvet Lance was lying on with her gaze alone.

Lance had been allowed to have friends round under tight time allocations. Originally, the suggestion had been met with a roaring protest from his mother. However, Alfonse had been gently persuasive about the support his son would need after a traumatic event, patiently calming Maria’s fiery temper with sound reason and sensible appeal. Eventually she had relented, mumbling something about not having Lance moping around the house all day. The omnipresent tension that had sat in Lance’s shoulders after the attack had eased slightly with the soothing balm of social interaction, and though he didn’t like speaking about what happened, he was being more open about his feelings towards it. Mostly, he’d been feeling guilty for worrying his family, and ashamed for putting his friends in danger. Despite constant reassurance that things had worked out for the best, Keith could see the “but what if it hadn’t” etched into the tight lines of stress that had settled over Lance’s skin like tattoos.

Keith had been over a few times after Lance had finished work, though never to stay the night. That was something Maria was insistent on. It seemed as though she knew exactly what she was withholding from Lance, and was making a sure point about it: Mess with gang crime, don’t get laid.

Every time it began to get late, and Lance and Keith began to settle into a cosy fort of blankets and pillows, Maria would enter Lance’s room without knocking and loudly announce, “IT WAS LOVELY OF YOU TO COME ROUND KEITH SO GOOD TO SEE YOU SAFE DRIVE HOME.”

Keith would shoot Lance an apologetic look before whisking away down the stairs, not wanting to provoke Maria’s wrath.

Him and Lance hadn’t really talked much about that first night after the incident. I wasn’t that Keith didn’t want to, it was more that it never seemed to come up in conversation. It was almost as if Lance were purposely avoiding the topic after Keith had shied away from intimacy that first time. Even in the quiet moments they had together in Lance’s room as the sun was coming down and their lips pressed together hotly, Lance never tried to advance anything. Keith thought maybe Lance had changed his mind, and so he didn’t push the topic, not wanting to put them in an awkward position.

Despite his visits, Keith had not been able to see Lance as much as he would have liked. They texted a lot, and video called when they didn’t get to see one another. Keith would swing by the auto shop when he had a spare hour to give Lance a ridiculously over-sugared coffee and a kiss. Keith loved how sweet Lance’s lips tasted after he’d take a sip of whatever syrup he’d requested in his coffee that day. Once or twice he’d dragged Keith behind the car lift and pushed him up against the panels whilst he dragged his teeth down the pulse leaping in the shorter boy’s neck. Keith was grateful for the loud noise of heavy machinery that would drown out his shuddering moans as Lance ground their hips together. That’s how it would always start anyway.

Lance would weave his fingers into Keith’s hair, tilting the shorter boy’s head back so that he could latch onto his mouth and shiver when Keith nipped at his bottom lip. Keith would scrabble at Lance’s back, desperately drawing them closer as Lance let his hand drift to the hem of Keith’s shirt. The dark haired boy would get a flicker of his nerve endings igniting when Lance’s fingertips grazed over the exposed skin of his abdomen and then…

It would stop.

Lance would pull away, red faced and panting, before thanking Keith for the coffee and announcing that he had to go back to work. Keith would watch him go, the fabric of Lance’s shirt stretching slightly across his broad shoulders as he ducked his head, feeling as if every step further away were weighed down by a thousand unspoken words.

Keith tried to put it out of his mind, telling himself that Lance would open up when he was ready. He thought about asking Hunk for advice, but he wasn’t sure if the big guy was mad at him for keeping Lance’s secret about the Galra to himself. Hunk had been decidedly close-lipped about the entire situation, and Keith found he wasn’t sure where they stood. Normally Hunk would be the first person to try and ease the tension, giving a very firm kick to the elephant in the room. However this time seemed different, and though he didn’t behave all that differently around Keith, it seemed as if he were pointedly ignoring that the interaction with the Galra had ever happened at all. It worked Keith up to the point of frenzy, and the dark haired boy found himself working out his frustration on his punching bag until he collapsed of sheer exhaustion more and more frequently. The internalisation of his emotions felt like a poison, eating him from the inside out, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

Keith had come to town with a singular goal – restock his quick cash and chase the racing high.

What he’d got was a lopsided wonky family stuck together with Mario Kart and bad jokes, along with a dork of a boyfriend who knew how to push all Keith’s buttons and yet still managed to be genuine and caring.

Just thinking about it made Keith’s heart ache. He didn’t want to jeopardise it by pulling on a loose thread that could just be ignored.

And because Keith was a coward, he didn’t seek Hunk out to verify his friend’s hypothetical rage.

Not only that, but he was worried about his relationship with Lance. The lack of contact and the multitude of unspoken things between them was putting a strain on their feelings, like a tightening wire on the brink of snapping.

Lance had called him once when he was waiting for an old mechanic friend to drop off a part for Blue, and Keith had struggled to give Lance a reason as to why he couldn’t meet up for his lunch break. He’d watched the sparkle in Lance’s bright blue eyes fade along with his grin before Lance had forced a laugh, trying to play off his obvious disappointment.

“I’ll just Skype you later. I know you can’t go too long without this sexy ass before you get all lonely and emo.”

“I’m not emo,” Keith pouted.

“Oh puh-lease. Pidge doesn’t the best impression of you, and it’s like, the second most emo thing I’ve ever seen. Excluding you of course.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but promised to talk to Lance that evening. He’d had felt horrible about dodging his boyfriend at the time, but he comforted himself by insisting that it would all work out in the end.

The maintenance on Blue was taking the majority of his days, and he’d had to call in almost every favour he had with the string of mechanics he’d gotten to know over travelling. However, she was coming together nicely and a lot quicker than Keith had hoped. Shiro had clued in Pidge and Hunk about Keith’s project, and since they’d heard about it the two of them had insisted on getting involved. They’d even gone so far as to donate parts of their own vehicles.

Keith nearly had a heart attack the day Pidge came over to his house and dumped a sack full of heavy car parts squarely on Keith’s foot.

“Where did all of these come from?” Keith exclaimed, rooting through the bag to pull out a small motor valve.

“Is this from Green?”

“She needed an upgrade,” Pidge said with a shrug. “I’ve been upgrading her so these are the scraps. I don’t know a lot about fixing cars but they might be of some use.”

Keith had waded gingerly through the clunky mess of bent metal, careful not to stick his hand to far into the bag in case Pidge had decided that there was a hacksaw she no longer wanted or something. He was pleasantly surprised to find a couple of small parts that would save him the pocket change.

“Thanks, Pidge,” he said with a grateful smile.

“No problem,” Pidge replied, turning on her heel to stride back out of the garage.

She paused at the entrance, the fingers of one hand barely skimming the rough stone the framed the garage door. Turning back around, she fixed Keith with a soft look. It looked… Strange on her. Not that Pidge couldn’t be soft – Keith had seen them gush over the puppies in the pet store window. But it was so often veiled with sass and fierce intelligence that Keith usually forgot that it was simmering just under the surface. Needless to say, when Pidge gazed at him with such warmth that their brown eyes looked like golden honey, Keith felt slightly stunned.

“Hey… Keith?”

“Yeah?” Keith asked.

“I’m really sorry about slapping you,” Pidge mumbled. They looked away, and if Keith didn’t know better, he would have thought they looked embarrassed.

“I was just so worried about you and Lance, and it usually comes out in the form of anger. I didn’t mean to hit you so hard.”

They turned their gaze back on the dark haired boy, and Keith shifted restlessly on his feet, spinning a wrench on his fingers the same way Lance fiddled with his tools in the garage.

“It’s okay,” he said after a moment. “I’m sorry that I worried you, I shouldn’t have run off. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the Galra, too.”

Keith felt hot shame wash through, burning his cheeks as his eyes dropped to his feet.

A light chuckle chimed through the air, and Keith looked up to see Pidge smiling lopsidedly at him.

“Don’t worry, I know how persuasive Lance can be. And he promised you he would tell us. Lance usually comes through, he just gotten beaten to the punch this time.” She paused for a second before adding. “Hunk isn’t mad at you either, by the way.”

Keith felt relief flood through him as the sombre tone dissolved. He hadn’t realised how much anxiety he’d been balling up around Pidge and Hunk until then, and now that it was all out in the open, Keith felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest, making it easier to breathe.

“Also,” Pidge dropped their voice. “I think it’s amazing what you’re doing for Lance. With Blue.”

Keith felt a little bubble of happiness pop up in his chest, and he subconsciously reached up to rub the back of his neck bashfully.

“Anyone would do that same,” he said smoothly.

Pidge’s scoff echoed around the small garage.

“No, Keith. They abso-fucking-lutely would not.” They shot a Keith a smile so sweet he felt as if he’d had sugar injected into his eyeballs. “You’re incredible, okay? I’m really glad we met.”

Keith gulped, not trusting his voice. He nodded at Pidge with a small quirk of his mouth and a half wave as they turned around to walk down his drive.

Turning back towards Blue, he ran a hand over her body, letting the roughness of the metal scrape against his already calloused hand. It had been a huge job, fixing the frame. They’d had to cut some pieces out all together and replace with new metal just to make sure that the car was road safe. It had been an even bigger job since they were working on it in Keith’s garage instead of in Shiro’s auto shop in order to hide it from Lance’s unending nosiness.

Shiro had exhibited the patience of a saint and kindly brought Keith the tools he needed to fix Blue.

It wouldn’t be long now, Keith told himself. He’d been working on Blue tirelessly, making sure to get as many specs as he could from Shiro. Making a mental note to call Hunk to check her over, Keith walked over to where Red was parked a few feet away out on his drive.

Popping the hood, he ran a hand over Red’s engine, feeling the all the dips and divots in the machine. When he pulled away, the tips of his fingers were smudgy and black from the residue that coated Red’s engine like an ashy film.

“We’ll get you sorted too, girl,” Keith cooed, giving the engine a fond pat before popping the hood back down.

He had just finished wiping his fingers clean on the rag tucked into his waistband when Keith felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled the device out, casting a quick glance at the screen to see that Lance was Facetiming him. Keith carefully angled his phone so that Blue was out of the shot before hitting the receive button. He was immediately rewarded with the image of one very nervous looking Lance. The tan boy’s eyebrows were pinched together in the middle of his forehead, and he was chewing his lip ferociously. He looked rather ragged, and Keith’s heart immediately panged with worry and yearning, a sharp note breaking an otherwise comfortable silence.

“Lance, hi,” Keith said with a frown. “Everything okay?”

“Hi, Keith,” Lance mumbled. “Are you- Where are you right now?”

“I’m at home,” Keith answered cautiously. Something about Lance’s demeanour felt off, and it was setting his nerves on edge.

“You’re at home?” Lance echoed, incredulity creeping into his tone.

“Yeah…”

Lance’s brow furrowed further, and he drew his bottom lip back into his mouth as he sat up.

“Should I… not be at home?” Keith asked after a tense minute.

Lance blinked at him, and Keith felt his stomach drop.

“So you know I told you Emily had her baby?” Lance asked.

Keith nodded mutely in response.

“ And that her and Toni would be moving back in with us for a while to help take care of little Joshua?”

And then the memory smacked Keith like a brick to the head.

“Family dinner!” he half shouted, clapping a hand to his forehead.

“Family dinner,” said Lance with a solemn nod.

“Shit! Lance! I completely forgot! I’m so sorry, I’ll head over there now,” Keith gushed, taking a couple of long strides towards his building.

“Keith-“

“I’ll be there in like ten minutes, fifteen tops. Shit, I can’t believe I forgot!” Keith said, half to himself half to Lance.

“Keith that’s not-“

“Can you tell Maria not to wait on me? Seriously, just go ahead and serve up, I’ll be there soon?”

“Keith!” Lance snapped suddenly.

Keith froze where he’d taken one step over the threshold.

“What?” he fired back, but it didn’t have its usual edge to it.

Lance looked fraught, like he was biting his lip to keep back a tsunami of words just ready to pour out of his mouth.

“You don’t _have_ to come to family dinner if you don’t want to,” Lance said evenly.

His face was carefully impassive, betraying nothing, and Keith felt ice creeping down his spine.

“What do you mean?” he asked, trying to keep the rising fear out of his voice.

“I mean if you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to come,” Lance replied matter-of-factly.

That stung. Keith schooled his features carefully to stop himself from flinching. What was Lance talking about?

“Of course I want to be there,” Keith said, trying not to sound petulant.

“Do you?”

“Yes!”

“Do you really though?”

“Lance,” Keith huffed in exasperation. “What’s this about?”

“It’s just…” Lance averted his eyes. Keith knew his leg was probably bobbing wildly the way it usually did whenever Lance got worked up about something.

“It’s just, you missed dinner last week, and we haven’t seen a lot of each other. And you’re always busy, or you miss my calls, or when you do take them you seem really preoccupied.”

Keith felt a tightness creep up his throat, constricting his airway, and he gulped thickly in an attempt to push it down. He knew Lance had noticed his sketchiness, but he never thought that the other boy would jump to _this_ conclusion. Keith was painfully aware that they’d had less contact than either of them would have liked, but he’d chalked a lot of it up to Lance being grounded or trying to be respectful of Maria, or… Other stuff.

“I’m sorry Lance, I’ve just… I’ve been really busy,” Keith tried.

Even to his own ears, it sounded like a thin excuse. He wished he could be more creative, but he was still trying to keep Blue a secret.

“I mean, I thought maybe it was just because I was grounded and you were trying to be respectful of Mama but- I don’t know. Is there something you’re not telling me?“

 _Yes,_ Keith thought, but he bit the inside of his cheek to stay silent.

Lance seemed to be looking anywhere but at Keith, and the avoidance wasn’t lost on the shorter boy.

“Lance, I’m sorry. Really. I truly have just been busy,” he said gently.

Lance still refused to look at him, so Keith tried another tactic.

“I’ll swing by the auto shop tomorrow morning with an extra large Frappuccino for you if you like? Four pumps of caramel syrup and whipped cream too, because I know you’ve got expensive taste.”

The feeble attempt at humour did nothing to coax Lance out of his depressed demeanour. Keith felt as if he were flailing. Like he were trying to swim upstream and kept getting batted back by the heavy tide.

“Lance, I’m sor-“  
“Are you cheating on me?” Lance suddenly blurted out.

Keith felt his insides liquefy.

Lance’s lip was trapped so tightly between his teeth it had turned white, and Keith worried he would draw blood. His usually rosy cheeks had drained of colour, and his eyes shone with the threat of tears as he stared widely at Keith through the tiny phone screen.

“Lan- _What?”_ Keith said eloquently.

“If you didn’t want to do this anymore, I… I get it. I mean, I probably wouldn’t wanna be with someone who got me involved in some crazy gang crime. I know I was such an idiot a -“

“Shut up,” Keith interrupted hotly. He was not about to stand there and listen to Lance berate himself, not after everything he’d been through.

Lance jaw snapped shut, and Keith kind of wished he hadn’t sounded so hard. The thought got pushed to the back of his mind though as his next words came crashing out of Keith’s mouth.

“I’m not cheating on you. Lance, I would _never._ ”

The sheer force behinds Keith’s words seemed to knock Lance off course a bit, and he somewhat reluctantly lets his bottom lip drop from his jaws. Keith felt like iron is pumping through his veins, burning and heavy, and his jaw ached from the tension of holding back a million things he wants to say.

“But-You’ve been really distant. You hardly ever wanna meet up, and the night after…” Lance took a shaky breath. “The night after everything with the Galra I just- You…”

Keith could see Lance curling in on himself, his eyebrows pinching together strongly as he tried to hide his vulnerability with anger. Whatever internal war he’s having abruptly comes to an end when he hisses out:

“ _You said you’d say it back.“_

Keith blinked once, twice, as he let Lance’s words sink in. The entire evening came rushing back in one big overwhelming flood. The race, the desperation of looking for Lance, Blue ablaze, seeing Lance’s terror as Sendak attacked them, how he’d put himself between Sendak and Keith, gun raised and a roar in his throat. How his fingers had skimmed the bruises circling Keith’s neck with the gentlest of caresses. How Lance had withdrawn after Keith said no out of fear he’d upset the other boy.

How Keith had promised to say those three little words if Lance said them first. Keith felt as if he were suffocating.

This entire time, he thought Lance had mumbled those words because he’d been drifting off, halfway through sleep and consciousness and completely unaware that he was doing it.

_If you say it, I’ll say it back._

_You said you’d say it back._

“I’m coming over,” Keith interrupts. “Right now. I’m not doing this over the phone.”

He got one look at Lance’s startled face before he hung up the call. In less than a minute, he was inside Red, revving her engine and pulling out of the driveway with one smooth practised motion. Keith couldn’t help the white knuckled grip he had on the steering wheel, or the way he felt as if the very blood in his veins were quivering with tangled emotions. He was nervous, sure, but more than anything else he felt a searing _need_ to reassure Lance. To wrap him up in his arms and soothe away every fear and insecurity with loving words and soft kisses. The feeling had Keith bouncing his knee in a way that was so reminiscent of his boyfriend he almost chastised himself for the action.

The drive to the Sanchez homestead felt like it took hours, each minute dragging by with a steady blink from the digital clock on the dashboard.

After completing the fifteen-minute drive in just under ten minutes, Keith pulled Red down the dirt track to the homestead. The yellow lights from the house gave it an angelic glow, and he could already see people moving about the kitchen, a shadow show of a family. The entire scene just screamed the word _home,_ though Keith didn’t allow himself to dwell on the fuzzy lightness in his chest that came with the thought. He pulled Red up a little more sharply than normal, noting the way one of the silhouettes in the window paused at the sound. The lanky shape was inarguably Lance, something that was proven once the shadow moved swiftly out of the kitchen spotlights and into the hall. Keith slammed Red’s driver door shut at the same time the front door to the house swung open, and a very flustered looking Lance stumbled out.

“Keith!” he cried.

Lance’s limbs were so long, he almost tripped over twice as he scrambled towards the shorter boy. Keith marched towards Lance with a purpose. Looking back, he probably appeared a little mad, striding towards his boyfriend with an absolutely vengeful look on his face. But it didn’t matter at all, not really.

As soon as Lance was close enough, Keith reached for him, wrapping his fingers firmly around the taller boy’s bicep.

“Keith, I- _mmpph!_ “

Lance’s words were muffled as Keith curled a hand around the back of Lance’s neck and yanked him forward to crush their lips together. His other hand released Lance’s arm to snake around the other boy’s broad back, fingers digging in as they tried to gain purchase. Lance had tensed up when Keith grabbed him, but he quickly melted into the touch. Lifting one hand between them, Lance got a firm grip on Keith’s collar, pulling them impossibly closer to each other as his hips bucked forward of their own accord. Keith kissed him back fiercely, trying to pour every unspoken word from the past few weeks into the space in between their gasping breaths. He felt Lance’s nails dig into the skin just above his hip, and he couldn’t stop the growl that rocked out of his mouth as his tongue darted out to swipe along Lance’s.

Keith pulled back, resting his forehead heavily against the taller boy’s, letting his gaze bore into the tapestry of blues in Lance’s eyes.

“I’m not cheating on you,” he breathed. “I love you too much.”

Lance’s eyes grew twice their usual size, and he pulled back enough to get a proper look at Keith’s face as his mouth dropped open. Keith’s heart was pounding in his chest, a hummingbird in the cage of his ribs. He could feel the tips of his ears burning, though he couldn’t tell if it was a blush or if he was just flushed from panting so hard. Lance just stared at him, his eyes darting between the features on Keith’s face. The silence began to stretch, and a tired sense of agitation began to creep its way across Keith’s skin.

“But-“ Lance said finally. “You almost died because of me.”

“I don’t care,” Keith replied without hesitation.

“I do,” Lance shot back, his brows furrowing.

That wasn’t exactly the reaction Keith had been expecting. He’d thought that as soon as he said those words, Lance would echo them back and things would be fine because they were in love. Now that Lance was trying to have an actual conversation about the Galra, Keith felt adrift on a proverbial sea in a raft made of reticence. He gave his head a little shake, moving to take a step back.

“No you don’t,” Lance said immediately.

He looped his arm around Keith’s waist, keeping his other hand firmly balled in the collar of Keith’s jacket as he pulled them together again.

“Do you really love me?” Lance asked quietly.

His gaze which had been lingering on Keith’s lips traced their way up to his face, azure against navy, fire and ice.

“Yes,” Keith breathed _. “Yes.”_

“Say it again,” Lance mumbled as he rested their foreheads together.

Keith hesitated, anxiety and fear and vulnerability all those ugly emotions fighting for dominance inside his head as Lance stared at him expectantly. Sensing his hesitation, Lance gazed down at him, his glittering blue eyes wide and welcoming.

“If you say it,” he whispered. “I’ll say it back.”

And then just for good measure. “I promise.”

Keith took a shaky breath, pulling his head back as he eased Lance’s fingers away from his collar. He kissed each fingertip in turn before grazing his lips over Lance’s bony knuckles.

“I love you, Lance.”

Lance’s smile was brighter than all the stars in the sky, and he wrapped his arms around Keith’s shoulders.

“I love you too, Mullet.”

Keith groaned.

“Did you have to ruin it?”

“Shut up, you love me,” Lance said smugly.

“I'm immediately regretting it,” Keith replied in the most deadpan voice he could muster.

Lance let out a loud hoot of laughter before swooping down to capture Keith’s lips with his own.

It didn’t feel like fireworks going off in his chest or electricity running through his veins. It didn’t even feel like a crashing wave of happiness.

Lance lips on Keith’s felt warm and sure as they always did, full of life and love and colour. Lance felt like being tucked up in bed as the rain outside beats steadily against your window pain, or the crackling embers of a fire as you it in front of the heart.

Lance felt like a group of dinner guests yelling “hat” at the cook for speaking her native tongue, and of a bone-crushing hug with only good intentions.

Keith had to stop kissing the taller boy because he was smiling so much. And when Lance pulled back with a chuckle and a soft brush of his fingers against the hair curling against Keith’s nape, that was when it all clicked into.

Lance felt like home.

“ _AHEM.”_

The two boy’s heads whipped round to see who was standing in the front doorway, their arms still tight around each other. Louisa was leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed against her chest and an extremely unimpressed look on her face.

“Are you coming in for dinner or are you going to stand there macking all night?” she said with a loud huff.

“Yeah yeah, we’ll be right in,” Lance said dismissively, waving a hand at her for good measure.

Louisa just raised her eyebrows, for once declining to comment; instead just turning around and sauntering lazily back inside.

“We should really go inside,” Keith suggested lightly.

“What does it matter? You’re already late,” Lance reminded him.

Nevertheless, he wove his fingers with Keith’s and tugged them towards the house.

Keith hadn’t gotten two steps inside before he nearly tripped over a suitcase. The afterglow of kissing Lance had apparently fried his senses and made him completely unobservant. When he regained his balance with that help of Lance’s steady grip on his hand, he looked around to see towers of boxes lining the hall.

“What’s all this?” he asked in surprise.

“Toni and Emily are moving back in, remember?” Lance replied. “It’s, ah… It’s a bit cramped. But this way they can pay mama rent and they get free babysitting so it’s a win win really.”

“Are you all gonna fit in this house?” Keith asked sceptically as he eyed the clutter.

Lance just shrugged.

“Woudn’t be the most number of people we’ve had living under this roof. I’ll admit it’s not ideal though. We just have to work out where we’re gonna put everyone.”

Keith would never describe himself as dainty, but weaving through the clutter on the way towards the kitchen made him look as if he were auditioning for the Royal Ballet. Lance seemed used to it, picking his route more strategically through the mess with his gangly limbs. Even so, he seemed a tad stressed by the influx of _stuff._

“We need to try and sort out a room for them,” he mused aloud. “But I’m not sure where-“  
“Move in with me.”

The words were out of Keith’s mouth before his brain had even processed them, and he stared agape at Lance light a rabbit caught in headlights.

Lance seemed to be having trouble processing too, his entire expression frozen as the two boys gawked at each other.

“That is-“ Keith spluttered. “I know it’s fast, and that we’ve only been dating a couple of months. But you said that your house was running out of space and I’ve got this whole apartment to myself…”

He trailed off when Lance failed to respond. Honestly, Keith didn’t even know what he’d been thinking. It had just seemed like such a logical solution, but now he was thinking about it he realised he really DID want Lance to move in with him. They could wake up together, pool their funds, take some time to renovate the Sanchez homestead. Maybe even set up their own auto shop.

Emboldened by clarifying his emotions, Keith lifted his chin to look Lance squarely in the eye.

“And I love you. Move in with me.”

Lance’s features went slack before he broke out into a nervous grin. The fingers around Keith’s tightened, and he pulled gently so that they moved closer together.

“I’ll have to ask mama,” he murmured. “And I might still be grounded.”

“How long are you grounded for?” Keith managed to say.

“Forever according to her,” Lance snorted.

But his humour eased when he say Keith watching him expectantly. “But I’ll ask her.”

 

Moving into Keith’s place was a lot smoother than Lance had thought. He didn’t exactly have a lot of stuff with the lack of space in the Sanchez household. Mostly it came down to one suitcase and a few boxes, all of which Hunk had helped drop off.

The broad boy had pulled Keith into a tight hug, lifting him off the ground as he spun him round, and Keith couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped his mouth, dissolving any lingering tension he thought might have been between them.

“I’m just so happy for you guys. Really!” Hunk had gushed. “I mean it’s like you hated each other, and then you were like rivals, _Lance and Keith! Neck and Neck!_ And now look at you. Lance got you a _houseplant!_ ”

“He did what?” Keith asked flatly.

Right on cue, Lance fell out the back of the pickup, a large plant clasped against his chest.

“Keith, look!” he cried, brandishing the plant. “I’ve named her Shirley!”

“Oooh nice name,” Hunk cooed appreciatively.

Keith opened his mouth to speak, but found that there were no words to properly respond with, so he closed it again.

“Let’s get these boxes upstairs,” he said instead, grabbing on of the boxes of Lance’s stuff.

A loud clinking chimed from inside, giving Keith pause before he decided he would rather not know. It took less than fifteen minutes to move all of Lance’s stuff in, and just under an hour to unpack it.

“What the hell do you need blue hair extensions for?” Keith wondered as he pulled the row of clips out of the box.

“You never know when you need to glow up,” Lance replied nonchalantly, not even looking up from where he was arranging the houseplant in the corner of the living room.

Keith just shook his head, dropping the extensions back into the box atop the other few bizarre items Lance had insisted on bringing with him.

“Is there anything in this box you need on a daily basis?” Keith asked.

“Nah, I’ll just go put it in the garage for now,” Lance said.

He assessed the houseplant for a second before giving it (her?) and appraising nod and bracing his hands on his knees to stand. Whisking the box off the floor, he took off down the stairs, though not before scooping the blue extensions onto his head and giving Keith a sultry wink. Keith laughed, though it sounded more like a snort, and went to the sink to fill a glass of water. Walking over to Shirley, he began pouring the water dutifully into the earth filling the pot.

It took him a full ten seconds to realise what Lance had just said.

“Lance!”

Keith whirled around, almost flinging the glass of water across the room in his haste to chase the other boy down the stairs. He took the steps two at a time, almost twisting is ankle as he sped down them towards the garage.

It didn’t matter.

Lance’s back was facing him as Keith skidded around the corner. The box he’d been holding had been dropped on the floor and was sitting between Lance’s feet. Keith could see Blue and Red lined up side by side, both hoods popped open on full display. Except there was one glaring obvious appendage missing from Red, that Blue seemed to have acquired.

“Keith…” Lance’s voice was raspy as he spoke. “Is that…?”

“It was meant to be a surprise,” Keith spoke up. “It’s… I’m not quite done yet. She’s not finished but-“

Lance stepped over the dropped box, taking a tentative step towards Blue’s frame like an explorer stepping on new land for the first time. He raised a wavering hand, fingers flexing unconsciously as he reached out towards Blue. Keith heard Lance’s breath hitch as his fingertips grazed the cold metal, skimming over the surface to feel along the bumps where she’d been welded. Keith held his breath as he watched the other boy circle Blue with quiet curiosity. What if Lance decided he hated it? What if he’d wanted to let Blue go? Keith had been so set on fixing her, he hadn’t even thought about the possibility that Lance wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. Lance peered inside the body, squinting at the dashboard

“Is that-“  
“From Hunk’s pickup? Yeah,” Keith explained. “Everyone donated something, actually. I was rebuilding her with contributions and a lot of favours.”

He bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything more. Would Lance think he was bastardising Blue?

To his enormous relief, a small smile flitted across Lance’s face as he gazed fondly down at the Mustang.

“That’s how I built her the first time,” he murmured.

Keith let out a breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding, relief washing through him like ice-cold water on a hot day. That is until Lance reached Blue’s bonnet.

“The engine,” Lance said with a frown. “Where did you-“

He cut himself off as soon as his eyes landed on Red.

“This is… _Red’s engine?_ ” he asked in awe.

Keith nodded mutely.

“It shouldn’t really work because they’re different makes of car, but Hunk is a genius so we managed to sort it out.”

Lance’s awed gaze snapped up to Keith so fast it’s a wonder they didn’t spin in their sockets like a slot machine.

“You can’t gut your car for me,” Lance said firmly.

“I’m getting a new engine, Lance. I’m just giving Blue Red’s old one,” Keith explained hurriedly. “I’ve got my bike in the meantime.”

It wasn’t exactly true, but Keith supposed he would have to get a new engine after this anyway.

“You gave her Red’s heart,” Lance murmured.

Keith’s eyes followed Lance’s fingers as they traced over the engine delicately, and with renewed confidence he took a step towards the other boy.

“If you don’t like it, we can-“

“I love it,” Lance interrupted. “I love _you.”_

He took Keith’s hand in his own, pulling it up so he could press a kiss to Keith’s palm.

“I can’t believe you did this for me, this is amazing. You’re amazing, Keith!”

Keith felt himself flush all the way down to his toes, his hand tingling where Lance’s fingers were curled loosely around it. If smiles held power then Lance’s could have lit up the entire state. Keith got a split second glimpse of that dazzling smile before Lance was pulling him into a kiss, his long arms wrapping firmly around Keith’s back. Keith sighed, all the stress from the past weeks that had accumulated like lead in his muscles seeping out of him inch by inch with the hot guidance of Lance’s insistent mouth. Grabbing Lance’s shoulders, he spun them both until Lance’s back hit the wall, cupping the back of Lance’s head to protect it from whacking against the concrete. Lance let out a startled noise that melted into a moan as the tip of Keith’s tongue brushed against his. Keith pressed their bodies together compactly, loving the content little mewling noises that Lance made as he nibbled at the other boy’s bottom lip. Lance’s head fell back against the wall with a dull thud, and Keith took the opportunity to latch his teeth around the exposed skin of the tan boy’s neck. Lance let out a ragged moan and Keith bit down, his hands scrabbling desperately for some purchase on Keith’s shoulders, and his hips bucked forward into Keith’s with little control.

Keith could feel Lance’s hardness pressing into his thigh, and Keith groaned at the friction. It call came to a jarring halt when the heels of Lance’s hands pushed into his shoulders.

“Keith, wait!”

Keith swallowed the frustrated growl that threatened to tear out of his throat, pausing the ministrations of his tongue to pull back and look at Lance’s flushed face. Lance was panting, his broad chest rising and falling with small breaths causing the thin fabric of his shirt to stretch a little. More than anything though, Keith noticed the expression on Lance’s face.

Lance looked embarrassed, nervous, and a little worried.

“Is something wrong?” Keith asked, leaning back to give Lance a little more room.

“I just- I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to,” Lance said breathlessly.

Keith felt stunted. He glanced down at the straining denim of Lance’s jeans before dragging his gaze back up to the other boy’s face.

“I do want to,” he said flatly.

“What?”

“Lance,” Keith groaned. He rolled his hips into Lance’s, watching his boyfriend’s face carefully as he shuddered. “Clearly, I want to.”

Lance bit his lip, barely stifling a keen as he felt Keith hardening through his clothes.

“I just thought… When you said you didn’t want to…” Lance trailed off, his pelvis leaving the pressure of Keith’s as he shrunk back towards the wall.

Keith slipped his hand under the small of Lance’s back, making sure he didn’t go to far.

“I didn’t want to then because it didn’t feel right,” he murmured. “But I did say I wanted to. I do want to. It feels right _now._ ”

Lance exhaled long and slow, allowing Keith to guide their hips back together before grinning widely.

“Your room,” he announced fingering the dark hair trailing down Keith’s neck.

“ _Our_ room,” Keith corrected proudly, and Lance beamed.

He grabbed Keith’s hand with shaking fingers and pulled them back into the stairwell leading to Keith’s apartment. They made it to the bedroom in record time, both giddy with nervous excitement, and Keith found himself silently thanking his foresight for tidying up before Lance had moved his stuff in.

Lance let Keith’s hand drop as they stepped into the room, eyeing the bed as if it were about to grow fangs and snap at him. He turned a half circle to watch as Keith shrugged off his jacket.

 

* * *

 

 

“Soooo…” Lance started.

Keith recognised the jitteriness in his stance and moved to take a step forward. Once Lance was within reaching distance, Keith skimmed his fingers under the hem of his shirt, giving it a minute tug upwards. Lance got the message immediately, reaching own to grab the fabric and yank it over his head. Keith’s hands had already moved to his belt, deftly unfastening the clasp and pushing Lance’s waistband down over his rear. The taller boy made quick work of shimmying them the rest of the way down his legs, stepping out of the fabric pooling at his ankles and kicking them aside. He shot Keith’s pants a sideways glance, the whisper of a pout starting to form on his lips. Keith quelled the chuckle of endearment he felt bubbling in his chest in favour of stepping forwards to pull Lance into a searing kiss.

He stepped forward, forcing Lance to take a stride backwards until his legs hit the bed. Without breaking the kiss, Keith supported Lance’s back with one arm wrapped around his waist, guiding them down onto the mattress. Lance released one arm from where it was holding Keith close to push himself further up the bed, digging his heels in to help once they gained purchase. He let his knees drop outwards, kissing Keith feverishly when the other boy settled his weight between Lance’s legs. Keith sunk his hips into Lance’s, groaning into the tan boy’s mouth at the delicious friction. Lance swallowed the noise, his tongue delving into Keith’s mouth to lick away the vibrations as he lost himself in the sensation of Keith’s cock rubbing against his through the thin layers of fabric still left between them.

Keith pulled away to look down at the boy beneath him, starry eyed and squirming, splayed out just for him.

“Keith,” Lance breathed in a hushed plea.

Keith responded, dipping his head to suck a trail of marks down Lance’s throat to his collarbone. Lance arched his back, letting his head fall back to bare his skin in invitation. Every brush of Keith’s tongue over his brown skin felt like a path of fire, burning his nerves a shooting little flickers of warmth flooding through his body. Keith kissed down his chest, pausing to brush his tongue over one nipple. Lance shuddered, and when Keith bit down on the bud a high-pitched whine escaped Lance’s lips. His hands shot instinctively to Keith’s head, burying his fingers into those inky black strands of hair, fisting to pull at the roots. Keith moaned at the roughness, and it seemed to encourage him enough to leave Lance’s nipple and continue his path downwards. One he reached Lance’s boxers, he slowed to flick his gaze up to Lance. When their eyes locked, Lance’s breathing hitched so mightily that he almost choked. Keith’s indigo eyes were burning with desire, molten pewter shining up from where he lay between Lance’s knees. Without breaking eye contact, Keith caught the hem of Lance’s boxers between his teeth and dragged them down until his erection sprang free. Lance gasped as the cool air washed over his sensitive flesh, and his hold on Keith hair loosened as he struggled to catch his breath.

He felt exposed. Keith was still mostly clothed and devouring Lance’s body with his hungry eyes. It made Lance feel vulnerable. This was new territory.

“God you’re hot,” Keith murmured, and Lance felt himself flush all the way down to his chest.

Almost reverently, Keith reached out to smooth his hand over Lance’s abdomen, curling his fingers around his small waist. It made Lance feel… Pretty.

Keith didn’t linger long, barely giving any attention to Lance’s cock save for a teasing kiss to the tip before he sat back to whisk the boxers off Lance’s legs. He caught one ankle in his hand, letting his fingers roam the flesh up Lance’s calf until he was cupping the back of his knee before lowering himself back down.

“You’re gonna love this,” he murmured.

Before Lance could even splutter out a question, he felt a hot wetness push against his hole. He made a choked sound as Keith’s tongue circled him, and his fingers twisted in the sheets at pleasure wracking through him in waves. That was when Keith pushed his tongue in. Lance made a loud and completely inhuman noise, and he instantly slapped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment. Keith withdrew his tongue, head popping up to smirk at Lance from between his legs.

“Good?” he enquired.

“Fuck. Keith. Oh my god that was- What was that?” Lance managed the garble out.

Keith shot him a ridiculously smug grin before he leaned forwards and buried his tongue so far up Lance’s ass that the taller boy saw stars.

Keith’s eyes flicked up to watch Lance writhe, his hair dishevelled and his knuckles shoved messily into his mouth to muffle the moans that were oozing out from between his lips. Keith reached up to tug his hand away.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” he whispered.

Lance shivered at the endearment, but when Keith pressed his tongue back into his heat, a ragged moan ripped itself out of the taller boy’s throat. Keith’s fingers were gripping Lance’s ass hard enough to bruise, and Lance found that he loved letting the other boy have control. Keith sucked and teased at his hole, his eyes flitting up to meet ocean blue every so often. Lance dug his fingers into midnight black hair, and his back bowed as he chased to pleasure Keith was administering with his skilled tongue. His head was spinning from the sensation, the wet heat pulsing inside him making him giddy. He hadn’t expected it to feel this good, and it warmed him to the core.

Keith eventually pulled back, eyes hooded and hungry as he gently spread Lance’s legs a little further. At least he tried, until Lance suddenly realised what was about the happen and seized up, his legs snapping closed with a fresh wash of fear.

That seemed to wake Keith up from the haze of arousal, and he blinked at Lance’s closed off body language for a second before reaching out to gently take his hand.

“We don’t have to go any further if you don’t want to,” he reminded his boyfriend.

Lance steadily let out a breath, letting his legs release from their closed vice position.

“I’m scared,” he admitted. “But I do want to.”

Keith nodded in understanding, leaning down to lie next to Lance and press a gentle kiss to the other boy’s jugular.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promised. “If you don’t like it, we’ll stop. Okay?”

Lance nodded, swallowing thickly. Keith continued to watch him, his thumb grazing gently over Lance’s ribs where his hand lay on his waist.

“Okay,” Lance said aloud.

Keith gave him a quick peck on the temple before standing up to pull off his jeans and boxers together. Lance took a moment to admire Keith in all his naked glory, his eyes unabashedly raking over the other boy’s length as he threw his clothes into the corner of the room, trying not to feel too daunted.

Keith reached into the nightstand and pulled out a small bottle of lube before crawling back on the bed. Lance took a steadying breath as he stepped his feet apart, letting Keith move between them to sit back on his knees. He watched curiously as Keith generously coated his fingers in lube, letting it warm between his digits before he settled one hand on Lance’s knee.

“I’m going to start with one, alright?” he asked.

Lance bit his lip and nodded, trying to force himself to relax. But when he felt the first press of Keith’s fingertip against his hole, he instantly froze up.

“Relax,” Keith mumbled.

He let his fingertip trace around the hole experimentally, waiting until some of the tension had leeched out of Lance’s body before he dipped the tip inside. Lance had to stop himself from kicking Keith in the face, his muscles bunching in knots as he clenched his teeth. It didn’t stop the keen from jumping out of throat. He felt the mattress dip under his back, and Lance opened his eyes a crack as Keith leaned down to distract him with a kiss. Lance looped his arms loosely around the other boy’s neck, letting the gentle graze of Keith’s tongue against his chase away some of the tension coiling in his body. Keith pressed his finger in a little further, and Lance felt like an elastic band ready to snap.

“Are you okay?” Keith whispered against his lips.

Lance nodded, not trusting his voice not to crack.

“If you don’t relax, it’s going to be harder,” Keith said quietly.

“I’m trying,” Lance whined.

And he really was. The feeling was foreign. Not bad, just…. Weird.

Keith waited until Lance had stopped squirming to push a little more. The second he felt more pressure, Lance’s grip around Keith’s neck tightened and he crushed their bodies together to stop himself from writhing in discomfort.

“Ssshh, it’s okay. You’re okay, I’ve got you,” Keith whispered into Lance’s mouth.

He kissed away every groan Lance made, giving him time to adjust to the new intrusion. When Keith managed to get his finger all the way in to the knuckle, he stopped, waiting for Lance’s eyes to stop squeezing themselves shut. He pulled back enough to watch Lance’s face as he gave his finger an experimental wiggle. Lance mewled at the sensation, his fingernails digging into the flesh of Keith’s shoulders. Keith shushed him, sucking Lance’s earlobe into his mouth and nibbling. Lance almost came right then, and he buried his face in Keith’s neck as he tried to breath through the threat of his impending orgasm. His body felt like it was on fire, every single nerve ending alight with sensation, and Lance could feel himself trembling under Keith’s weight. Keith crooked his finger, and a jolt rocked up the entire length of Lance’s spine.

_“Aaah!”_

Keith smirked.

“Found you.”

Keith was merciless, moving his finger to press repeatedly against a certain bundle of nerves, and it didn’t take long for Lance to descend into a gasping drooling mess.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck _fuck!_ Keith!”

“Fuck, Lance. You feel so fucking _hot,_ ” Keith groaned into Lance’s ear.

Lance lifted his knees, curling his body in around Keith as the other boy continued to tease him.

“I’m going to add another finger,” Keith warned.

Lance choked out a pleasured sob in response, letting Keith go enough to give him room. The second finger only served to double his pleasure. Lance hissed through his teeth as Keith pushed in all the way to the knuckle, the passage already slick from lube. He cried out when Keith didn’t even pause to curl his fingertips awards again. The stretch was a little uncomfortable to be honest, but it quickly melted into pleasure as Keith took his time working his fingers inside him.

“Fuck, you look incredible,” Keith rasped.

His voice was scratchy and deep, and Lance glowed at the praise. He unconsciously thrust his hips down towards Keith’s fingers, biting his lip to contain the wail behind his teeth. His hands couldn’t make up their mind about where they wanted to go, scrambling for grip over Keith’s back, dropping back to the sheets before finding their way back up into Keith’s hair. Lance dug his heels into the mattress, trying to lift his hips closer to where Keith’s fingers where gently rocking in and out of him.

“Lance,” Keith stuttered. “Lance, calm down.”

Lance made a feeble attempt to shake his head, gasping for air as his limbs tingling with stimulation.

“Feels- _ah!_ Fuck. Feels so-o good… So good, Keith,” he stammered.

“Lance, keep still. I don’t want to hurt you,” Keith admonished, but Lance could hear the sincerity in his words.

With an iron will, Lance forced himself to quieten, letting his body go slack as Keith trailed lazy kisses down his neck.

“Good boy,” Keith whispered. Lance almost inhaled his tongue.

Keith quirked an eyebrow, giving Lance an incredibly amused look.

“Shuddup,” Lance mumbled, burying his burning face in Keith’s shoulder.

The dark haired boy just kissed him deeply, and Lance felt the tip of a third finger press against the tight ring of muscle.

Adding another finger was easier than Keith had expected. He supposed it helped that he’d used a good dollop of lube, and that Lance was exceptionally aroused, but that didn’t stop the lanky boy from hiccupping out a broken moan at the obvious stretch. Keith moved his fingers in a patient pattern, feeling the way Lance contracted around his movements. He watched the other boy’s face carefully, and when Lance’s jaw dropped and his head lolled back, Keith repeated the motion, rubbing against that spot over and over. He could feel the quivering muscles around his fingers begin to spasm, and when Lance moaned and arched his back, Keith withdrew his hand. Lance made a displeased grumble, wiggling his hips to try and chase Keith’s fingers.

His eyed widened a little as Keith quickly rolled on a condom, rubbing a liberal amount of lube over his cock with the palm of his hand. Lance scooted a little closer, and Keith reached out a hand to his hip in an attempt to still the other boy whilst he prepared himself. A hot spike of arousal shot straight down to Lance’s aching cock when Keith looked up at him. The shorter boy looked completely fucked out, his hair sticking up where Lance had grabbed at it, mouth shiny with spit and his eyes lidded and predatory.

Lance held his breath as Keith lined himself up, the fingers on Lance’s hip digging in to stop him from thrusting forward onto the warm tip.

“Do you still want to do this?” Keith checked.

“Fuck,” hissed Lance venomously. “Fuck me! F-fuck. Keith, _come on!_ ”

Keith couldn’t even find it within himself to tease Lance for his desperation. He was too preoccupied with trying to stop himself from coming instantly at the sight of Lance trying not to thrust down on his straining cock. He pressed on hand into the pillow next to Lance’s head, positioning himself better so that he could watch the bother boy’s face.

Lifting his hips, he pushed the head in and Lance instantly bit down on a moan, twisting his head sideways to hide his face in the pillow.

“Look at me,” Keith breathed. “Lance, look at me.”

With a huge amount of effort, Lance turned his face back towards Keith’s hovering above him. His pupils were blown wide, almost completely blocking out the steely gray-blue of his irises, and his breath was coming hot and fast to ghost over Lance’s skin.

Painfully slowly, Keith pushed in, watching closely as Lance’s mouth lolled open in silent ecstasy. Lance started to shift, but Keith shushed him with a firm hand on his hip and a distracting peck to his lips.

“You’re s-so… God, you’re so fucking good,” Lance babbled. “Feels amazing.”

Keith flushed a little at the praise. Absently, he wondered if he and Lance both had a praise kink from their rivalry.

Once he was all the way inside, he stopped to rest his forehead against Lance’s. Blue eyes stared up into navy as they lay still, breathing heavily, Lance’s arms wound tightly around Keith’s back. In an oddly affectionate gesture, Keith grazed his knuckles across the tan boy’s cheekbone, warmth and love blooming in his chest as Lance leaned into the touch. They stayed their for a minute as Lance’s body adjusted, gazing at each other in a rare moment of tenderness. After a while, Lance tapped Keith on the shoulder.

“You can move,” he said.

Wordlessly, Keith drew himself almost all the way out before easing back into Lance’s pulsing heat. Lance gasped at the friction, clawing at Keith’s back. The dark haired boy would definitely have marks there tomorrow but he didn’t seem to care, too focused on rocking his hips methodically back and forth.

Lance’s mind was reeling, every thrust in sending his head spinning with a new wave of pleasure quaking through him. Keith angled his hips upwards and gave a particularly brutal thrust, hitting Lance in that _exact_ spot, and the moan that wrenched itself out of Lance’s mouth was filthy.

“There!” Lance whimpered, grabbing a reckless handful of Keith’s hair. “ _Right there!_ Fuck! _Keith!”_

Keith’s movements became frenzied, hips bucking wildly as he tried to will away his own orgasm. Now that Lance was uninhibited, the carnal sounds of pleasure came spilling out of his mouth.

“Fuck. Look at you,” Keith appraised, and Lance practically preened.

Every thrust was accompanied by a whine and a gasp of relish. Keith growled into Lance’s, trying not to think about the heat pooling in his abdomen, and he distracted himself by sucking a vicious hickey into his boyfriend’s collarbone. When he felt Lance’s body start to tremble, he pulled back to look the other boy in the eyes. Grabbing at Lance’s wrists, he yanked his arms over his head, threading their fingers together as he pushed Lance’s hands into the pillow.

“K- Keith. Keith! I’m gonn- I-I’m-“ Lance blubbered.

Keith grit his teeth with the exertion of battling his own release, praying for those last few seconds as he shot his hips forward with a snap. Lance’s back arched high, feverish heat crawling through his blood, and suddenly he choked out a pleasured sob as he came. His eyes filled with wonder as Keith rested their foreheads together. That was all that was needed to send the shorter boy rocketing off the edge after him, and Keith bit down on Lance’s neck _hard_ as he released inside of him. Lance mewled at the heat rushing inside of him, until eventually Keith’s juddering hips came to a stop.

He slumped boneless across Lance’s wide chest, sighing in content as the tall boy wrapped his long arms around his shoulders. Keith didn’t want to crush Lance, but he felt to exhausted he wasn’t sure he could move. The other boy didn’t seem to mind, fingers playing leisurely with the soft curls against Keith’s neck. The feeling of warm fingers brushing against his scalp soothed Keith in the afterglow, and pretty soon their breathing synched up, Keith’s body rising and falling with each breath Lance took.

Eventually he propped himself up on his elbow, gently easing himself out of Lance. The tall boy groaned as Keith’s soft length slipped out of him, and he began to roll before Keith’s hand shot out to calmly rub his side.

“Just a sec, Lance. I’ll sort you out.”

Keith pulled off the condom tying it in a knot and chucking it in the bin before he darted off to the bathroom. He came back a second later with a damp cloth, crawling back onto the bed to sit in between Lance’s knees. With great care, he lightly lifted each of Lance’s legs, being mindful to wipe down the other boy’s long thighs and fluttering hole to make sure he was clean. When he was done, he dropped the cloth on the nightstand and pulled Lance towards him. Keith enveloped the lanky boy in his arms, pressing soft lingering kisses up his jaw, over his cheeks, one on the tip of his nose, before finally drawing him into a deep kiss. When he pulled back, Lance was gazing at him in awe.

 

* * *

 

“I think I’m dead,” the tan boy announced. “Did I die? I feel like I died.”

“If you did then I went with you. I think I’m in heaven,” Keith murmured back.

Lance blinked at him blankly before letting out a bubble of laughter, and oh if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Dude, that was so cheesy,” Lance giggled.

“Hm,” Keith grunted in response.

His eyelids felt heavy, and as much as he wanted to keep staring at Lance’s goofy grin, he could feel tiredness seeping into his bones. Lance felt warm and firm in his arms, and Keith habitually tightened his hold around those broad shoulders.

“I love you,” Lance mumbled against his collarbone.

“Love you too,” Keith hummed in response, pressing a kiss to Lance’s temple.

“Thank you,” Lance said after a moment of blissed out silence. “Really. For everything. For fixing Blue.”

Keith didn’t know what to say in response. ‘You’re welcome’ didn’t seem like the right thing. Not when Lance had shown him what it was like to have a family. What it was like to have more than a life you live day to day. To be a part of something bigger than yourself, loved and cherished and _necessary._

So instead he just squeezed Lance tighter, trying to pour every sentiment he’d ever felt out of his heart and into Lance’s skin.

“Blue could still totally take Red in a race though,” Lance continued, and if Keith could have opened his eyes he would have rolled them for sure.

“Blue has Red’s engine,” he pointed out.

“I mean before that.”

“Sadly I think we know how that worked out,” Keith said with a sigh. “And I was holding back anyway.”

Lance snorted, offended.

“You were _not._ I saw the concentration on your face during the race. I almost beat you.”

“ _Almost_ being the operative word in that sentence,” Keith shot back. And this time he couldn’t hold back the smugness in his voice.

Lance smacked him on the chest, and Keith chuckled. He was sure Lance was pouting against his neck.

“Whatever, man,” Lance griped. “Next time drive it like you mean it.”

Keith didn’t bother pointing out that they shouldn’t be racing again. Or that the implication that they would clearly meant that Lance hadn’t learnt his lesson the first time. He didn’t want to ruin their moment by dredging all that stuff up, selfish as it made him feel.

So instead he tucked his chin down, his body slotting together with Lance’s like two jigsaw pieces as they drifted off into blissful sleep. Keith mumbled out one final word before he went under, Lance soft and warm in his arms.

“Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus concludes this little story about how Keith and Lance did some really stupid shit with street races and fell in love.
> 
> I wanna take this time to thank my mam and Jesus.
> 
> Also a MASSIVE thank you to all the wonderful and encouraging comments everyone left!! They're truly what kept this fic alive, and I loved reading every single one! Massive shout out to RedXYami one final time for the Spanish translations.  
> Thank you all for coming and goodnight! <3 <3 <3


	23. Small update thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me: Here, have a subplot!
> 
> You, an intellectual: But where's the resolution??

I fucking forgot to tell everyone what the secret ingredient for Hunk's barbecue marinade was.

I set up this entire subplot with a very clear reason and I had every intention of resolving it and I just

fucking

FORGOT???? ABOUT IT

 

* * *

 

 

The secret ingredient was Bourbon whiskey: Keith's drink of choice.

 

It was supposed to be a badly crafted metaphor about Keith being what Lance was missing but I'm an actual cave troll and a dunce and I forgot. I'm so sorry.

Here's the list of ingredients if anyone wants to, like, make it:

  * 200 g light soft brown sugar
  * 200 g tomato ketchup
  * 200 ml fresh unsweetened apple juice
  * 100 ml bourbon whisky
  * 4 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
  * 4 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
  * 2 heaped teaspoons English mustard
  * 2 oranges , juice of
  * a few splashes of chipotle Tabasco
  * 1 pinch of sea salt



 

I apologise for any dissatisfaction I may have left anyone with. I honestly just forgot to write it in! >.<


End file.
